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I hated history more than all my other lessons ’ ’ 



THE DIAMOND 
STORY BOOK 


SELECTED AND EDITED BY 

PENRHYN W. COUSSENS 

Editor and compiler of “Poems Children Love,” “One 
Thousand Books For Children,’* “A Child’s 
Book of Stories,” etc. 

ILLUSTRATED BY 

ETHEL GREENE > / 



NEW YORK 

DUFFIELD & COMPANY 

1914 


o 4-3'k 
£ 

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Copyright, 1914 
By DUFFIELD & COMPANY 



OCT 2 1914 


/ 

©Cl. A 3806 5 8 V , 


TO 

MY DEAR CHUMS 
MY WIFE AND CHILDREN 



PREFACE 


This collection of stories is intended for those children 
who, while still of tender years, are sufficiently mature to 
have read, or listened to, the tales contained in “ A Child’s 
Book of Stories.” 

In the search for material, it has been necessary to con- 
sult many tomes, both old and new, of the folk-lore and 
fairy tales of various countries, with the result that more 
than twenty nations have contributed to the following 
pages. 

While frequent changes have necessarily been made, the 
stories still retain the thoughts and ideas set forth in the 
earlier editions. 

In the task of selection, the compiler has had the able 
assistance of his children, and to them his thanks are due. 

P. W. Coussens. 

Rogers Park, Ills. 



CONTENTS 

ARRANGED ALPHABETICALLY 

PAGE 

A Child’s Dream of a Star 202 

Aiciia’s Stratagem 249 

Alfred the Great 1 

Another Recruit 44 

A Pottle O’Brains 366 

A Slice of Tongue 252 

A Son of Adam 341 

Better Than That . . 261 

Blockhead Hans 323 

Brother Bernard 258 

Catskin 19 

Drakestail 240 

Fairy Gifts 291 

Glob and Alger 124 

Habetrot and Scantlie Mab 411 

Hermod and Hadyor 328 

Hok Lee and the Dwarfs 390 

“ I Won’t ” 106 

Johnny Gloke 246 

King Henry and the Miller 77 

King John and the Abbot of Canterbury 384 

King Kojata 216 

King Robert of Sicily 74 

Lionbbuno 91 

Prince Bull, A Fairy Tale 206 

Prince Vivien and the Princess Placida 266 

Robin Hood and the Sheriff’s Prize 49 

Robin Hood Meets Little John 40 

Saint Christopher 181 

Sigurd 23 

Sir Cleges and the Cherries 84 

Tamlane 387 


The Apples of Venus 172 

The Ass That Lays Money 71 

The Bar of Gold 192 

The Beautiful Palace East of the Sun and North of 

the Earth 160 

The Blue Mountains 312 

The Bronze Ring 296 

The Buried Moon 343 

The Crumb in the Beard 53 

The Farmer and the Noses 196 

The Fiddler in the Fairy Ring 112 

The Frog and the Wild-Hog 122 

The Hunter and the Serpent 123 

The King of England and His Three Sons 395 

The King O’ The Cats 382 

The Magic Fishbone 228 

The Magic Jar 58 

The Mouse Tower 263 

The Ness King 151 

The Nettle Spinner 33 

The Pied Piper 308 

The Shepherd and the Dragon 187 

The Stars in the Sky 407 

The Story of Ubashima, the Fisher Boy 63 

The Tale of a Youth Who Set Out to Learn What 

Fear Was 372 

The Thankful Dead 102 

The Tongue-Cut Sparrow 144 

The Two Gifts 213 

The Werwolf 132 

The Wise Old Shfphebd 118 

The Wonderful Sheep 348 

Tom Hickathrift 335 

William Tell and His Great Shot 7 

William Tell’s Second Shot 15 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


“I hated history more than all my other les- 


sons” Frontispiece 

PAGE 

He noticed a group of children in a state of great 
excitement 64 

The fox said, “Ah! Well then, just stay there 
always” 124 

The Princess could not believe what they told 
her, but went to the gate herself 172 

“A King called Kojata, whose beard was so long 
it reached below his knees” 216 


“While they stared with their twice seventeen are 
thirty-four, put down four and carry three, eyes”. 234 

The elders mocked, but the children followed. ... 312 

And besides that, it was full of lions and wolves 354 
















































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THE DIAMOND 
STORY BOOK 



ALFRED THE GREAT 


When I was very young, I hated history more than all 
my other lessons put together, because I had to learn it 
out of a horrid little book, called somebody’s “ Outlines of 
English History”; and it seemed to be all the names of 
the kings and the dates of battles, and, believing it to be 
nothing else, I hated it accordingly. 

I hope you do not think anything so foolish, because, 
really, history is a story, a story of things that happened 
to real live people in England years ago; and the things 
that are happening here and now, and that are put in the 
newspapers, will be history for children one of these days. 

The people in those old times were the same kind of 
people who live now. Mothers loved their children then, 
and fathers worked for them, just as mothers and fathers 
do now, and children then were good or bad, as the case 
might be, just as children are now. And the people you 
read about in history were real live people, who were good 
and bad, and glad and sorry, just as people are now-a-days. 

You know that if you were to set out on a journey now 
from one end of England to another, wherever you went, 
through fields and woods and lanes, you would still be in 
the kingdom of George V. But once upon a time, hundreds 
of years ago, if one had set out to ride, he might have begun 
his ride in the morning in one kingdom, and finished it in 
the evening in another, because England was not one great 
kingdom then as it is now, but was divided up into seven 
pieces, with a king to look after each, and these seven kings 

1 


were always quarrelling with each other and trying to 
take each other’s kingdom away, just as you might see 
seven naughty children, each with a plot of garden, trying 
to take each other’s gardens and spoiling each other’s 
flowers in their wicked quarrels. But presently there came 
one King, named Egbert, who was stronger than all the 
others; so he managed to put himself at the head of all 
the kingdoms, and he was the first King of all England. 
But though he had got the other kings to give in to him, 
he did not have at all a peaceful time. There were some 
very fierce, wild pirates, called Danes, who used to come 
sailing across the North Sea in ships with carved swans’ 
heads at the prow, and hundreds of fighting men aboard. 
Their own country was bleak and desolate, and they were 
greedy and wanted the pleasant English land. So they 
used to come and land in all sorts of places along the sea- 
shore, and then they would march across the fields and 
kill the peaceful farmers, and set fire to their houses, and 
take their sheep and cows. Or sometimes they would 
drive them out, and live in the farm houses themselves. 
Of course, the English people were not going to stand 
this ; so they were always fighting to drive the Danes away 
when they came there. 

Egbert’s son allowed the Danes to grow very strong in 
England, and when he died he left several sons, the eldest 
of whom was made King, but he could not beat the Danes, 
and then the second one was made King, but he could not 
beat the Danes either. In fairy tales, it is always the 
youngest prince who has all the good fortune, and in this 
story the same thing happened. This prince did what 
none of his brothers could do. He drove out the Danes 
from England, and gave his people a chance of being 
quiet and happy and good. His name was Alfred. 

Like most great men, this King Alfred had a good 
mother. She used to read to him, when he was little, out 

2 


of a great book with gold and precious stones on the cover, 
and inside beautiful songs and poetry, and one day she 
said to the young princes, who were all very fond of being 
read to out of this splendid book — 

“ Since you like the book so much, I will give it to the 
one who is first able to read it, and to say all the poetry 
in it by heart.” 

The eldest prince tried to learn it, but I suppose he did 
not try hard enough; and the other princes tried, but I 
fear they were too lazy. But you may be quite sure the 
youngest prince did the right thing. He learned to read, 
and then he set to work to learn the poems by heart; and 
it was a proud day for him and for the Queen when he 
was able to say all the beautiful poetry to her. She put 
the book into his hands for his very own, and they kissed 
each other with tears of pride and pleasure. 

You must not suppose that King Alfred drove out the 
Danes without much trouble, much thought, and much 
hard work. Trouble, thought, and hard work are the only 
three spells the fairies have left us, so of course he had to 
use them. He was made King just after the Danes had 
gained a great victory, and for the first eight years of his 
reign he was fighting them continually. At one time they 
had conquered almost the whole of England, and they 
would have killed Alfred if they could have found him. 

You know, a wise prince always disguises himself when 
danger becomes very great. So Alfred disguised himself 
as a farm labourer, and went to live with a farmer, who 
used to make him feed the beasts and help about the farm, 
and had no idea that this labourer was the great King 
himself. 

One day the farmer’s wife went out — perhaps she went 
out to milk the cows; at any rate it was some important 
business — and she had made some cakes for supper, and 
she saw Alfred sitting idle in the kitchen, so she asked 

3 


him to look after the cakes, to see that they did not burn. 
Alfred said he would. But he had just received some 
news about the Danes, and he was thinking and thinking 
over this, and he forgot all about the cakes, and when the 
farmer’s wife came in she found them burned black as 
coal. 

“ Oh, you silly, greedy fellow,” she said, “ you can eat 
cakes fast enough; but you can’t even take the trouble to 
bake them when other people take the trouble to make 
them for you.” 

And I have heard that she even slapped his face. He 
bore it all very patiently. 

“I am very sorry,” he said, “but I was thinking of 
other things.” 

Just at that moment her husband came in followed by 
several strangers, and, to the good woman’s astonishment, 
they all fell on their knees and greeted her husband’s 
labourer as their King. 

“ We have beaten the Danes,” they said, “ and every on® 
is asking where is King Alfred? You must come back 
with us.” 

“Forgive me,” cried the woman. “I didn’t think of 
your being the King.” 

“Forgive me,” said Alfred, kindly. “I didn’t think 
of your cakes being burned.” 

The Danes had many more fighting men than Alfred; 
so he was obliged to be very cautious and wise, or he 
could never have beaten them at all. In those days very 
few people could read ; and the evenings used to seem very 
long sometimes, so that anybody who could tell a story or 
sing a song was made much of, and some people made it 
their trade to go about singing songs and telling stories 
and making jokes to amuse people who could not sing 
songs or tell stories or make jokes themselves. These were 
called gleemen, and wherever they went they were always 

4 


welcomed and put at a good place at table, and treated 
with respect and kindness ; and in time of war no one ever 
killed a gleeman, so they could always feel quite safe what- 
ever was going on. 

Now Alfred once wanted to know how many Danes 
there were in a certain camp, and whether they were too 
strong for him to beat. So he disguised himself as a 
gleeman and took a harp, for his mother had taught him 
how to sing and play very prettily, and he went and sang 
songs to the Danes and told stories to them. But all the 
time he kept his eyes open, and found out all he wanted 
to know. He saw that the Danes were not expecting to 
be attacked, so that, instead of keeping watch, they were 
feasting and drinking and playing all the time. Then he 
went back to his own soldiers, and they crept up to the 
Danish camp and fell upon it while the Danes were feast- 
ing and making merry, and as the Danes were not expect- 
ing a fight, the English were easily able to get much the 
best of it. 

At last, after many fights, King Alfred managed to 
make peace with his enemies, and then he settled down 
to see what he could do for his own people. He saw that 
if he was to keep out the Danes he must be able to fight 
them on sea as well as on land. So he learned how to 
build ships and taught his people how to build them, and 
that was the beginning of the great English navy, which 
to this day is still the greatest in the world. Alfred was 
wise enough to see that knowledge is power, and, as he 
wanted his people to be strong, he tried to make them 
learned. He built schools, and at University College, 
Oxford, there are people who will tell you that that college 
was founded by Alfred the Great. 

He used to divide his time very carefully, giving part 
to study and part to settling disputes among his people, 
and part to his shipbuilding and his other duties. They 
5 


had no clocks and watches in those days, and he nsed 
sometimes to get so interested in his work as to forget 
that it was time to leave it and go on to something else, 
just as you do sometimes when you get so interested in a 
game that you forget that it is time to go on with your 
lessons. The idea of a clock never entered into Alfred’s 
head, at least not a clock with wheels, and hands on its 
face, but he was so clever that he made a clock out of a 
candle. He painted rings of different colours round the 
candle, and when it had burned down to the first ring it 
was half an hour gone, and when it was burned to the 
next ring it was another half-hour, and so on. So he 
could tell exactly how the time went. 

He was called Alfred the Great, and no king has better 
deserved such a title. 

“ So long as I have lived,” he said, “ I have striven to 
live worthily.” And he longed, above all things, to leave 
“ to those that came after a remembrance of him in good 
works.” 

He did many good and wise things, but th'e best and 
wisest thing he ever did was to begin to write the History 
of England. There had been English poems before this, 
but no English stories that were not written in poetry. 
So that Alfred’s book was the first of all the thousands 
and thousands of English books. His book is generally 
called the Saxon Chronicle, and was added to by other 
people after his death. 

He made a number of wise laws. It is believed that it 
was he who first ordained that an Englishman should be 
tried not only by a judge but also by a jury of people like 
himself. 

Though he had fought bravely when fighting was needed 
to defend his kingdom, yet he loved peace and all the arts 
of peace. He loved justice and kindness, and all folk 
loved and wept for him when he died, because he was a 

6 


good king who had always striven to live worthily, that 
is to say, he had always tried to be good. 

His last words to his son, just before he died, were 
these — “It is just that the English people should be as 
free as their own thoughts.” 

You must not think that this means that the English 
people should be free to do as they like. What it means 
is, that an Englishman should be as free to do good deeds 
as he is to think good thoughts. 


WILLIAM TELL AND HIS GREAT SHOT 

William Tell lived in the village of Biirglen, near the 
town of Altorf. His wife, who was called Hedwig, was 
Walter Furst’s daughter. Tell and Hedwig had two sons, 
William and Walter. Walter, the younger, was about six 
years old. 

William Tell loved his wife and children very much, 
and they all lived together very happily in a pretty little 
cottage. 

“Hedwig,” said Tell one morning, “I am going into 
Altorf to see your father.” 

Hedwig looked troubled. “Do be careful, William,” 
said she. “ Must you really go ? You know the Governor 
is there just now, and he hates you.” 

“ Oh, I have done nothing for which he could punish 
me,” said Tell, “but I will keep out of his way,” and he 
lifted his cross-bow and prepared to go. 

“Do not take your bow,” said Hedwig, still feeling 
uneasy. “Leave it here.” 

“ Why, Hedwig, how you trouble yourself for nothing,” 
said Tell, smiling at her. “Why should I leave my bow 
behind ? I feel lost without it.” 

7 


“0 father, where are you going ?” said Walter, running 
into the room at this moment. 

“ I am going to Altorf to see your grandfather. Would 
you like to come?” 

“ Oh, may I ? May I, mother? ” 

“ Yes, dear, if you like,” said Hedwig. “ And you will 
be careful, won’t you ? ” she added, turning to Tell. 

“Yes, I will,” he replied, and Walter, throwing his 
arms round her neck, said, “It’s all right, mother, I will 
take care of father.” Then they set off merrily together. 

It was a great thing to go to Altorf with father, and 
Walter was so happy that he chattered all the way, asking 
questions about everything. 

“How far can you shoot, father?” 

“ Oh, a good long way.” 

“ As high as the sun? ” asked Walter, looking up at it. 

“ Oh, dear no, not nearly so high as that.” 

“ Well, how high ? As high as the snow mountains ? ” 

“ Oh, no.” 

Walter went on asking questions about one thing after 
another, until his father was quite tired of answering them. 

Now some time before this, Gessler, the Governor, had 
set his hat upon a pole in the market-place, and ordered 
that all the people should bow to it, and this Tell had 
sworn not to do. Walter, however, was chattering so 
much, that instead of going round by another way in order 
to avoid it, as he had meant to do, he went straight through 
the market-place to reach the house of Walter Furst, his 
father-in-law. 

“Look, father,” said Walter, “look, how funny! there 
is a hat stuck up on a pole. What is it for ? ” 

“ Don’t look, Walter,” said Tell, “ the hat has nothing 
to do with us, don’t look at it.” And taking Walter by the 
hand, he led him away. 

But it was too late. The soldier Heinz, who stood be- 
8 


side the pole to guard it and see that people bowed in 
passing, pointed his spear at Tell and bade him stop. 
“ Stand, in the Emperor’s name,” he cried. 

“Let be, friend,” said Tell, “let me pass” 

“Not until you obey the Emperor’s command. You 
must bow to the hat.” 

“It is no command of the Emperor,” said Tell. “It 
is Gessler’s folly and tyranny. Let me go.” 

“ Nay, but you must not speak of my lord the Governor 
in such terms. You shall not go past until you bow to 
the cap, and if you bow not, to prison I will lead you. 
Such is my lord’s command.” 

“ Why should I bow to a cap ? ” said Tell, his voice 
shaking with rage. “Were the Emperor himself here, 
then would I bend the knee and bow my head to him with 
all reverence. But to a hat ! Never ! ” and he tried to 
force his way past the soldier. But he would not let him 
pass, and kept his spear pointed at Tell. 

Hearing loud and angry voices, many people gathered 
to see what the cause might be. Soon there was quite a 
crowd around the two. Every one talked at once, and the 
noise and confusion were great. Heinz tried to take Tell 
prisoner, and the people tried to take him away. “ Help ! 
help ! ” shouted Heinz, hoping that some of his fellow- 
soldiers would hear him and come to his aid, — “Help! 
help ! treason ! ” 

Then over all the noise of the shouting there sounded 
the tramp of horses’ hoofs and the clang and jangle of 
swords and armour. 

“ Boom for the Governor. Boom, I say,” cried a herald. 

The shouting ceased and the crowd silently parted, as 
Gessler, richly dressed, haughty and gloomy, rode through 
it, followed by a gay company of his friends and soldiers. 
He checked his horse, and, gazing round at the crowd, 
said, “ What is this rioting ? ” 

9 


“ My lord,” said Heinz, stepping forward, “ this scoun- 
drel here will not bow to the cap, according to your lord- 
ship’s command.” 

“ Eh, what ? ” said Gessler, his dark face growing more 
dark and angry still. “ Who dares to disobey my orders ? ” 

“’Tis William Tell of Biirglen, my lord.” 

“ Tell,” said Gessler, turning in his saddle and looking 
at Tell as he stood among the people, holding little Walter 
by the hand. 

There was silence for a few minutes while Gessler gazed 
at Tell in anger. 

“ I hear you are a great shot, Tell,” said Gessler at last, 
laughing scornfully, “they say you never miss.” 

“That is quite true,” said little Walter eagerly, for he 
was proud of his father’s shooting. “ He can hit an apple 
on a tree a hundred yards off.” 

“Is that your boy?” said Gessler, looking at him with 
an ugly smile. 

“ Yes, my lord.” 

“Have you other children?” 

“Another boy, my lord.” 

“You are very fond of your children, Tell?” 

“Yes, my lord.” 

“ Which of them do you love best ? ” 

Tell hesitated. He looked down at little Walter with his 
rosy cheeks and curly hair. Then he thought of William 
at home with his pretty loving ways. “ I love them both 
alike, my lord,” he said at last. 

“Ah,” said Gessler, and thought a minute. “Well, 
Tell,” he said after a pause. “ I have heard so much of 
this boast of yours about hitting apples, that I should like 
to see something of it. You shall shoot an apple off your 
boy’s head at a hundred yards’ distance. That will be 
easier than shooting off a tree.” 

“My lord,” said Tell, turning pale, “you do not mean 
10 


that? It is horrible. I will do anything rather than 
that.” 

“ You will shoot an apple off your boy’s head,” repeated 
Gessler in a slow and scornful voice. “ I want to see your 
wonderful skill, and I command you to do it at once. You 
have your cross-bow there. Do it.” 

“ I will die first,” said Tell. 

“Very well,” said Gessler, “but you need not think in 
that way to save your boy. He shall die with you. Shoot, 
or die both of you. And, mark you, Tell, see that you 
aim well, for if you miss you will pay for it with your 
life.” 

Tell turned pale. His voice trembled as he replied, 
“My lord, it was but thoughtlessness. Forgive me this 
once, and I will always bow to the cap in future.” Proud 
although he was, Tell could not bear the thought that he 
might kill his own child. 

“ Have done with this delay,” said Gessler, growing yet 
more angry. “You break the laws, and when, instead of 
punishing you as you deserve, I give you a chance of es- 
cape, you grumble and think yourself hardly used. Were 
peasants ever more unruly and discontented? Have done, 
I say. Heinz, bring me an apple.” 

The soldier hurried away. 

“ Bind the boy to that tree,” said Gessler, pointing to a 
tall lime-tree near by. 

Two soldiers seized Walter and bound him fast to the 
tree. He was not in the least afraid, but stood up against 
the trunk straight and quiet. Then, when the apple was 
brought, Gessler, rode up to him and, bending from the 
saddle, himself placed the apple upon his head. 

All this time the people crowded round silent and won- 
dering, and Tell stood among them as if in a dream, 
watching everything with a look of horror in his eyes. 

“ Clear a path there,” shouted Gessler, and the soldiers 

11 


charged among the people, scattering them right and 
left. 

When a path had been cleared, two soldiers, starting 
from the tree to which Walter was bound, marching over 
the ground measured one hundred paces, and halted. 
“One hundred paces, my lord,” they said, turning to 
Gessler. 

Gessler rode to the spot, calling out, “ Come, Tell, from 
here you shall shoot.” 

Tell took his place. He drew an arrow from his quiver, 
examined it carefully, and then, instead of fitting it to 
his bow, he stuck it in his belt. Then, still carefully, he 
chose another arrow and fitted it to his bow. 

A deep silence fell upon every one as Tell took one 
step forward. He raised his bow. A mist was before his 
eyes, his arm trembled, his bow dropped from his hand. 
He could not shoot. The fear that he might kill his boy 
took away all his skill and courage. 

A groan broke from the people as they watched. Then 
from far away under the lime-tree came Walter’s voice, 
“ Shoot, father, I am not afraid. You cannot miss.” 

Once more Tell raised his bow. The silence seemed 
deeper than ever. The people of Altorf knew and loved 
Tell, and Furst, and little Walter. And so they watched 
and waited with heavy hearts and anxious faces. 

“ Ping ! ” went the bowstring. The arrow seemed to 
sing through the frosty air, and, a second later, the silence 
was broken by cheer after cheer. The apple lay upon the 
ground pierced right through the centre. 

One man sprang forward and cut the rope with which 
Walter was bound to the tree; another picked up the arrow 
and ran with it to Gessler. But Tell stood still, his bow 
clutched, his body bent forward, his eyes wild and staring, 
as if he were trying to follow the flight of the arrow. Yet 
he saw nothing, heard nothing. 

12 


“ He has really done it ! ” exclaimed Gessler in astonish- 
ment, as he turned the apple round and round in his 
hand. “Who would have thought it? Eight in the 
centre too.” 

Little Walter, quite delighted, came running to his 
father. “ Father,” he cried, “ I knew you could do it. I 
knew you could do it, and I was not a bit afraid. Was 
it not splendid?” and he laughed and pressed his curly 
hair against his father. 

Then suddenly Tell seemed to wake out of his dream, 
and taking Walter in his arms he held him close, kissing 
him again and again. “You are safe, my boy. You are 
safe,” was all he said. But strong man though he was, 
his eyes were full of tears, and he was saying to himself, 
“ I might have killed him. I might have killed my own 
boy.” 

Meanwhile Gessler sat upon his horse watching them 
with a cruel smile upon his wicked face. “ Tell,” he said 
at last, “ that was a fine shot, but for what was the other 
arrow ? ” 

Tell put Walter down and, holding his hand, turned to 
Gessler, “ It is always an archer’s custom, my lord, to 
have a second arrow ready,” he said. 

“Nay, nay,” said Gessler, “that answer will not do, 
Tell. Speak the truth.” 

Tell was silent. 

“ Speak, man,” said Gessler, “ and if you tell the truth, 
whatever it may be, I promise you your life.” 

“Then,” said Tell, throwing his shoulders back and 
looking straight at Gessler, “ since you promise me my life, 
hear the truth. If that arrow had struck my child, the 
second one was meant for you, and be sure I had not 
missed my mark a second time.” 

Gessler’s face grew dark with rage. For a moment or 
two he could not speak. When at last he did speak, his 
13 


voice was low and terrible, “ You dare tell me this,” he 
said. “I promised you your life, and that you shall 
have, but you shall pass it in a dark and lonely prison, 
where neither sun nor moon shall send the least glimmer 
of light. There you shall lie, so that I may be safe from 
you. Ah, my fine archer, your bows and arrows will be 
of little use to you henceforth. Seize him, men, and bind 
him, lest he do murder even now.” 

In a moment the soldiers sprang forward, and Tell was 
seized and bound. 

As Gessler sat watching them, he looked round at all 
the angry faces of the crowd. “ Tell has too many friends 
here,” he said to himself. “ If I imprison him in the 
Curb of Uri, they may find some way to help him escape. 
I will take him with me in my boat to Kussnacht. There 
he can have no friends. There he will be quite safe.” 
Then aloud he said, “Follow me, my men. Bring him 
to the boat.” 

As he said these words, there was a loud murmur from 
the crowd. “ That is against the law,” cried many voices. 

“Law, law?” growled Gessler. “Who makes the law, 
you or I?” 

Walter Furst had been standing among the crowd, 
silent and anxious. Now he stepped forward and spoke 
boldly. “ My lord,” he said, “ it has ever been a law 
among the Swiss that no one shall be imprisoned out of 
his own canton. If my son-in-law, William Tell, has done 
wrong, let him be tried here, in Uri, in Altorf. If you 
do otherwise you wrong our ancient freedom and rights.” 

“Your freedom! your rights!” said Gessler roughly. 
“ I tell you, you are here to obey the laws, not to teach 
me how to rule.” Then turning his horse and calling out, 
“ On men, to the boat with him,” he rode towards the lake, 
where, at a little place called Fluelen, his boat was waiting 
for him. 


14 


But Walter clung to his father, crying bitterly. Tell 
could not take him in his arms and comfort him, for his 
hands were tied. But he bent over to kiss him, saying, 
“ Little Walter, little Walter, be brave. Go with thy 
grandfather and comfort thy mother.” 

So Tell was led to Gessler’s boat, followed by the sor- 
rowing people. Their hearts were full of hot anger 
against the tyrant. Yet what could they do? He was too 
strong for them. 

Tell was roughly pushed into the boat, where he sat 
closely guarded on either side by soldiers. His bow and 
arrows which had been taken from him were thrown upon 
a bench beside the steersman. 

Gessler took his seat. The boat started, and was soon 
out upon the blue water of the lake. As the people of 
Altorf watched Tell go, their hearts Bank. They had not 
known, until they saw him bound and a prisoner how 
much they had loved and trusted him. 


WILLIAM TELL’S SECOND SHOT 

As soon as Gessler landed, he called for his horse, and 
silent and gloomy, his heart full of bitter hate against 
Tell and all the Swiss, he mounted and rode towards his 
castle at Kussnacht. 

But TelPs heart, too, was full of hate and anger. That 
morning he had been a gentle, peace loving man. Now all 
was changed. Gessler’s cruel jest had made him hard 
and angry. He could not forget that he might have 
killed his own boy. He seemed to see always before him 
Walter bound to the tree with the apple on his head. Tell 
made up his mind that Gessler should never make any one 
15 


else suffer so much. There was only one thing to do. 
That was to kill Gessler, and that he meant to do. 

If Gessler escaped from the storm, Tell was sure that 
he could go straight to his castle at Kiissnacht. There 
was only one road which led from the lake to the castle, 
and at a place called the Hollow Way it became very nar- 
row, and the banks rose steep and rugged on either side. 
There Tell made up his mind to wait for Gessler. There 
he meant to free his country from the cruel tyrant. 

Without stopping for food or rest, Tell hurried through 
the woods until he came to the Hollow Way. There he 
waited and watched. Many people passed along the road. 
There were herds with flocks, and travellers of all kinds, 
among them a poor woman whose husband had been put 
in prison by Gessler, so that now she had no home, and 
had to wander about with her children, begging. She 
stopped and spoke to Tell and the story she told of Gess- 
ler’s cruelty made TelPs heart burn with anger, and made 
him more sure than ever that the deed he meant to do was 
just and right. 

The day went on, and still Gessler did not come, and 
still Tell waited. At last he heard the distant tramp of 
feet and the sound of voices. Surely he had come at last. 
But as the sounds came nearer. Tell knew that it could 
not be Gessler, for he heard music and laughter, and 
through the Hollow Way came a gaily dressed clown. It 
was a wedding-party. Laughing and merry, the bride 
and bridegroom with their friends passed along. When 
they were out of sight the wind brought back the sound 
of their merry voices to Tell, as he waited upon the bank. 
They, at least, had for a time forgotten Gessler. 

At last, as the sun was setting, Tell heard the tramp of 
horses, and a herald dashed along the road, shouting, 
“Room for the Governor. Room/’ 

As Gessler came slowly on behind. Tell could hear him 
16 


talking in a loud and angry voice to a friend. ie Obedi- 
ence I will have/* he was saying. “ I have been far too 
mild a ruler over this people. They grow too proud. 
But I will break their pride. Let them prate of freedom, 
indeed. I will crush — ■” The sentence was never fin- 
ished. An arrow whizzed through the air, and with a 
groan Gessler fell, dead. 

Tell’s second arrow had found its mark. 

Immediately everything was in confusion. Gessler’s sol- 
diers crowded round, trying to do something for their 
master. But it was useless. He was dead. Tell’s aim 
was true. 

“Who has done this foul murder?” cried one of Gess- 
ler’s friends, looking round. 

“The shot was mine,” answered Tell, from where he 
stood on the high bank. “But no murder have I done. 
I have but freed an unoffending people from a base and 
cowardly tyrant. My cause is just, let God be the judge.” 

At the sound of his voice every one turned to look at 
Tell, as he stood above them calm and unafraid. 

“ Seize him ! ” cried the man who had already spoken, 
as soon as he recovered from his astonishment. “ Seize 
him, it is Tell the archer.” 

Five or six men scrambled up the steep bank as fast as 
they could. But Tell slipped quietly through the bushes, 
and when they reached the top he was nowhere to be found. 

The short winter’s day was closing in fast, and Tell 
found it easy to escape in the darkness from Gessler’s 
soldiers. They soon gave up the chase, and, returning to 
the road, took up their master’s dead body and carried it 
to his castle at Kiissnacht. There was little sorrow for 
him, for he had been a hard master. The Austrian sol- 
diers did not grieve, and the Swiss, wherever they heard 
the news, rejoiced. 

As soon as he was free of the soldiers, Tell turned and 
17 


made for Stauffacher’s house. All through the night he 
walked, until he came to the pretty house with its red 
roofs and many windows which had made Gessler so 
angry. 

Now there was no light in any of the windows, and all 
was still and quiet. But Tell knew in which of the rooms 
Stauffacher slept, and he knocked softly upon the window 
until he had aroused his friend. 

“ William Tell ! ” said Stauffacher in astonishment. 
“I heard from Walter Furst that you were a prisoner. 
Thank Heaven that you are free again.” 

“ I am free/’ said Tell ; “ you too, are free. Gessler is 
dead.” 

“ Gessler dead ! ” exclaimed Stauffacher. “ Now in- 
deed have we cause for thankfulness. Tell me, how did it 
happen?” and he drew William Tell into the house. 

Tell soon told his story. Then Stauffacher, seeing how 
weary he was, gave him food and made him rest. 

That night Tell slept well. All next day he remained 
hidden in Stauffacher’s house. “ You must not go,” said 
his friend, “ Gessler’s soldiers will be searching for you.” 
But when evening came Tell crept out into the dark 
again, and kind friends rowed him across the lake back 
to Fluelen. There, where a few days before he had been 
a prisoner, he landed, now free. 

Tell went at once to Walter Furst’s house, and soon 
messengers were hurrying all through the land to gather 
together again the Confederates, as those who had met on 
the Riitli were called. 

This time they gathered with less fear and less secrecy, 
for was not the dreaded Governor dead? Not one but 
was glad, yet some of the Confederates blamed Tell, for 
they had all promised to wait until the first of January 
before doing anything. "I know,” said Tell, “but he 
drove me to it.” And every man there who had left a 
18 


little boy at home felt that he too might have done the 
same thing. 

Now that Tell had struck the first blow, some of the 
Confederates wished to rise at once. But others said, 
“No, it is only a few weeks now until New Year’s day. 
Let us wait.” 

So they waited, and everything seemed quiet and peace- 
ful in the land, for the Emperor sent no Governor to take 
Gessler’s place, as he was far away in Austria, too busy 
fighting and quarrelling there to think of Switzerland in 
the meantime. “ When I have finished this war,” he said, 
“it will be time enough to crush these Swiss rebels.” 


CATSKIN 

There was once a wealthy gentleman who lived in great 
state at his country seat. Possessing great riches, he 
ardently desired a son to inherit them, but, as yet, he and 
his wife were blessed with daughters only. 

In course of time another child was born, but again it 
was a beautiful daughter. When the squire was told that 
it was a girl, he became very angry, and ordered that the 
child be sent away to be nursed, and he even refused to 
see it, despite his wife’s tears. 

So the sweet little girl was sent away to be brought up 
by a friend. Her father, although he was very bitter 
against her for not being a son, saw that she received an 
excellent education, and had everything that she could 
desire except his love. 

In due time she grew up to be a very beautiful young 
lady; she had a very determined spirit, and resolved that 
rather than live any longer under her father’s displeasure, 
19 


she would earn her own living, so, making herself a curi- 
ous catskin robe, and tying up her grand clothes and 
jewels into a bundle, she set forth on her travels. 

After a long day’s walk she reached a town, and being 
tired, cold, and hungry, she knocked at the door of a castle, 
and asked for food and a night’s lodging. 

The lady of the castle, seeing the beautiful maiden in 
so strange a dress, asked her into the kitchen, and told her 
to warm herself by the fire. She gave her some food, and 
allowed her to make up a bed in the stable. In the morn- 
ing, having hidden her bundle of rich clothes and jewels, 
she again went into the kitchen, where the cook told her 
she was to be her scullion, and do her bidding. She ac- 
cepted the position, but led a life that was not pleasant, 
because the cook was unkind to her, and often struck her 
with a ladle. Owing to the strange robe she wore, she 
was nicknamed “ Catskin.” 

One evening there was a grand ball to be held close by, 
and a great longing came over Catskin to taste again the 
life she was formerly used to. She wished greatly to at- 
tend the ball, and asked the cook’s permission. 

“You impudent baggage!” said the cook, “you would 
cut a fine figure among the ladies and lords.” And with 
this she took a basin of water and dashed it in poor Cat- 
skin’s face. 

Catskin was very indignant at this rough treatment, 
and, going to the stable she washed herself clean, put on 
one of her beautiful dresses, and hastened away to the ball. 
Here her beauty attracted the attention of every one, and 
particularly that of her young master, the son of the lady 
of the castle. He at once fell in love with her beauty and 
grace, and would dance with no other lady. When the 
dancing was over, he said to her : “ Fair maiden, pray 

tell me where you live.” 

How in those days, houses were not numbered, but were 
20 


known by a painted sign, so she answered the young lord’s 
question with this rhyme, — 

“ Kind Sir, if the truth I must tell, 

At the sign of the Basin of Water I dwell.” 

Then she hastened away from the ball-room, put on her 
catskin robe again, went back to the kitchen, and none of 
them knew where she had been. 

The next day the young man told his mother about the 
beautiful maiden, and declared that he would not rest until 
he had discovered who she was. 

Soon after this, there was another grand ball, and again 
Catskin asked the cook’s permission to attend it. The 
cook in a rage broke the ladle over poor Catskin’s head, 
and called her an impudent slut. 

Angry at this harsh treatment, Catskin hurried to the 
stable, dressed herself in her rich garments, and hurried 
away to the ball. Here her young master was anxiously 
waiting to see if she were coming, and he hoped to be able 
to find out where she dwelt. 

As before, he would dance with no one else, and when 
the parting-time arrived, he again begged her to tell him 
where she lived. 

For answer, she replied with the rhyme, — 

“ Kind Sir, if the truth I must tell. 

At the sign of the Broken-Ladle I dwell.” 

Then she hurried away in the dark, and was soon 
dressed again in her catskins and back to the kitchen, and 
no one had any idea where she had been. 

The next day the young lord told his mother that he 
would never be happy again until he had found out who 
the fair charmer was. 

Another grand ball was to be held, and once more Cat- 
skin asked the cook if she might go. As before the cook 

21 


reviled her, and in a fury broke the skimmer over poor 
Catskin’s head. Catskin ran away, dressed herself in her 
rich attire, and went to the ball. Her young master was 
awaiting her; he longed for nothing so much as to see her 
again. They enjoyed many dances together, and at the 
end he begged her to tell him from whence she came. But 
she would give him no other answer than this rhyme, — 

“ Kind Sir, If the truth I must tell, 

At the sign of the Broken-Skimmer I dwell.” 

Then she flew away from the ball, donned her catskin 
cloak again, and slipped into the kitchen unseen by the 
cook, who little dreamed where she had been. 

But the young lord was this time resolved to find out 
where she went, and had followed her quickly. He saw 
her creep into the stable, and come out again, dressed in 
her catskin robe. 

The next day he was ill, and the doctor was sent for, 
and him he begged to allow no other than Catskin to 
nurse him. When she came, he told her how he loved her, 
and asked her to be his wife. At his request the kindly 
doctor promised to speak to his proud mother of his love 
for the cook’s scullion. This he did, and at last pride 
gave way to her love for her son, and in order to save his 
life, she consented to their marriage. 

Then the young man quickly recovered, and the wed- 
ding took place. Catskin, in her beautiful robe and 
jewels, looked like a goddess, and all the guests said that 
they had never seen so fair a maiden. The marriage fes- 
tivities lasted several days, and there were great rejoicings. 

But still the young lord’s mother was not reconciled to 
her daughter-in-law, and so Catskin asked her husband to 
go with her to her father’s house, and see if his heart had 
softened towards her. So together they travelled in their 
own coach to the great house where she was born. 

22 


There they found the old gentleman in lonely state. 
His wife and Catskin’s sisters were dead, and too late he 
repented his pride and cruelty, and was now without 
comfort. 

The young lord sat by his side, and said feelingly: 
“Have you not a daughter, sir, that you would wish to 
see and own?” 

The old man cried aloud : “ I have sinned greatly to- 
wards my youngest child, and now would give all that I 
own if I could only see her before I die.” 

Then the young man brought his wife to her father, 
who embraced her tenderly and begged her forgiveness for 
his cruelty towards her. He then fell down on his knees, 
and returned thanks to God for his mercy and grace. 
The bells in the tower rang out joyfully, and they all lived 
together happily. 


SIGURD 

This is a very old story : the Danes who used to fight with 
the English in King Alfred’s time knew this story. They 
have carved on the rocks pictures of the things that hap- 
pen in the tale, and those carvings may still be seen. 
Because it is so odd and so beautiful the story is told here 
again, but it has a sad ending — indeed it is all sad, and 
all about killing and fighting, as might be expected from 
the Danes. Once upon a time there was a king in the 
north who had won many wars, but now he was old. Yet 
he took a new wife, and then another prince who wanted 
to have married her came up against him with a great 
army. The old king went out and fought bravely, but at 
last his sword broke, and he was wounded and his men 
fled. But in the night, when the battle was over, his 
23 


young wife came out and searched for him among the 
slain, and at last she found him, and asked whether he 
might be healed. But he said “ No/’ his luck was gone, 
his sword was broken, and he must die. And he told her 
that she would have a son, and that son would be a great 
warrior, and would avenge him on the other king, his 
enemy. And he bade her keep the broken pieces of the 
sword, to make a new sword for her son, and that blade 
should be called Gram. 

Then he died. And his wife called her maid to her 
and said : “ Let us change clothes, and you shall be called 

my name, and I by yours, lest the enemy should find us.” 

So this was done, and they hid in a wood, but there 
some strangers met them and carried them off in a ship 
to Denmark. And when they were brought before the 
king, he thought the maid looked like a queen and the 
queen like a maid. So he asked the queen: “How do 
you know in the dark of night whether the hours of night 
are wearing to the morning ? ” 

“I know because, when I was younger, I used to have 
to rise and light the fires, and still I waken at the same 
time.” 

“ A strange queen to light the fires,” thought the king. 

Then he asked the queen, who was dressed like a maid: 
“ How do you know in the dark of night whether the 
hours are wearing near the dawn?” 

“My father gave me a gold ring,” said she, “and al- 
ways, ere the dawning, it grows cold on my finger.” 

“ A rich house where the maids wore gold,” said the 
king. “Truly you are no maid but a king’s daughter.” 

So he treated her royally, and as time went on she had 
a son called Sigurd, beautiful and very strong. He had 
a tutor to be with him, and once the tutor bade him go to 
the king and ask for a horse. 

“ Choose a horse for yourself,” said the king ; and 
24 


Sigurd went to wood, and there he met an old man with 
a white beard, and said, “ Come ! help me choose a horse.” 

Then the old man said : “ Drive all the horses into the 

river, and choose the one that swims across.” 

So Sigurd drove them, and only one swam across. 
Sigurd chose him; his name was Grani, and he came of 
Sleipnir’s breed, and was the best horse in the world. For 
Sleipnir was the horse of Odin, the God of the north, and 
as swift as the wind. 

But a day or two later his tutor said to Sigurd: 
“ There is a great treasure of gold hidden not far from 
here, and it would become you to win it.” 

But Sigurd answered: “I have heard stories of that 
treasure, and I know that the dragon Fafnir guards it, 
and he is so huge and wicked that no man dares to go near 
him.” 

“ He is no bigger tjian other dragons,” said the tutor, 
“and if you were as |frave as your father you would not 
fear him.” 

“ I am no coward,” says Sigurd ; “ why do you want me 
to fight the dragon ? ” 

Then his tutor, whose name was Begin, told him that 
all this great hoard of gold had once belonged to his own 
father. And his father had three sons — the first was 
Fafnir, the dragon; the next was Otter, who could put on 
the shape of an Otter when he liked; and he was a great 
smith and maker of swords. 

Now there was at that time a dwarf called Andvari, who 
lived in a pool beneath a waterfall, and there he had hid- 
den a great hoard of gold. And one day Otter had been 
fishing there, and had killed a salmon and had eaten it, 
and was sleeping like an otter, on a stone. Then some 
one came by and threw a stone at the otter and killed it, 
and flayed off the skin, and took it to the house of Otter’s 
father. Then he knew his son was dead, and to punish 

25 


the person who had killed him he must have the otter’s 
skin filled with gold, and covered all over with red gold, 
or it should go worse with him. Then the person who 
had killed Otter went down and caught the dwarf who 
owned all the treasure and took it from him. 

Only one ring was left, which the dwarf wore, and even 
that was taken from him. 

Then the poor dwarf was very angry, and he prayed 
that the gold might never bring any but bad luck to all 
the men who owned it, forever. 

Then the otter skin was filled with gold and covered 
with gold, all but one hair, and that was covered with the 
poor dwarfs last ring. But it brought good luck to nobody. 
First Fafnir, the dragon, killed his own father, and then 
he went and wallowed on the gold, and would let his 
brother have none, and no man dared go near it. 

When Sigurd heard the story he said to Begin: 

“ Make me a good sword that I may kill this dragon.” 

So Begin made a sword, and Sigurd tried it with a blow 
on a lump of iron, and the sword broke. 

Another sword he made, and Sigurd broke that too. 

Then Sigurd went to his mother, and asked for the 
broken pieces of his father’s blade, and gave them to 
Begin. And he hammered and wrought them into a new 
sword, so sharp that fire seemed to burn along its edges. 

Sigurd tried this blade on the lump of iron, and it did 
not break, but split the iron in two. Then he threw a 
lock of wool into the river, and when it floated down 
against the sword it was cut into two pieces. So Sigurd 
said that sword would do. But before he went against 
the dragon he led an army to fight the men who had killed 
his father, and he slew their king, and took all his wealth, 
and went home. 

When he had been at home a few days, he rode out with 
Begin one morning to the heath where the dragon used to 
26 


lie. Then he saw the track which the dragon made when 
he went to a cliff to drink, and the track was as if a great 
river had rolled along and left a deep valley. 

Then Sigurd went down into that deep place, and dug 
many pits in it, and in one of the pits he lay hidden with 
his sword drawn. There he waited, and presently the 
earth began to shake with the weight of the dragon as he 
crawled to the water. And a cloud of venom flew before 
him as he snorted and roared, so that it would have been 
death to stand before him. 

But Sigurd waited till half of him had crawled over 
the pit, and then he thrust the sword Gram right into his 
very heart. 

Then the dragon lashed with his tail till stones broke 
and trees crashed about him. 

Then he spoke, as he died, and said : 

“ Whoever thou art that has slain me, this gold shall be 
thy ruin, and the ruin of all who own it.” 

Sigurd said: 

“ I would touch none of it if by losing it I should never 
die. But all men die, and no brave man lets death frighten 
him from his desire. Die thou, Fafnir,” and then Fafnir 
died. And after that Sigurd was called Fafnir’s Bane, 
and Dragon-slayer. 

Then Sigurd rode back, and met Begin, and Regin 
asked him to roast Fafnir’s heart and let him taste of it. 

So Sigurd put the heart of Fafnir on a stake, and 
roasted it. But it chanced he touched it with his finger, 
and it burned him. Then he put his finger in his mouth, 
and so tasted the heart of Fafnir. 

Then immediately he understood the language of birds, 
and he heard the woodpeckers say: 

“ There is Sigurd roasting FafniFs heart for another, 
when he should taste of it himself and learn all wisdom.” 

The next bird said : 


27 


“ There lies Regin, ready to betray Sigurd, who trusts 
him.” 

The third bird said: 

u Let him cut off Regin’s head, and keep all the gold to 
himself.” 

The fourth said: 

“ That let him do, and then ride over Hindfell, to the 
place where Brynhild sleeps.” 

When Sigurd heard all this, and how Regin was plot- 
ting to betray him, he cut oft* Regin’s head with one blow 
of the sword Gram. 

Then all the birds broke out singing: 

“ We know a fair maid, 

A fair maiden sleeping; 

Sigurd, be not afraid; 

Sigurd, win thou the maid 
Fortune is keeping. 

“ High over Hindfell 
Red fire is flaming, 

There doth the maiden dwell, 

She that should love thee well. 

Meet for thy taming. 

u There must she sleep till thou 
Comest for her waking, 

Rise up and ride, for now 
Sure she will swear the vow 
Fearless of breaking.” 

Then Sigurd remembered how the story went that some- 
where, far away, there was a beautiful lady enchanted. 
She was under a spell, so that she must always sleep in a 
castle surrounded by flaming fire; there she must sleep 
forever till there came a knight who would ride through 
the fire and waken her. There he determined to go, but 
first he rode right down the horrible trail of Fafnir. And 
28 


Fafnir had lived in a cave with iron doors, a cave- dug 
deep down in the earth, and full of gold bracelets, and 
crowns, and rings; and there, too, Sigurd found the helm 
of dread, a golden helmet, and whoever wears it is invis- 
ible. All these he piled on the back of the good horse 
Grani, and then he rode south to Hindfell. 

Now it was night, and on the crest of the hill Sigurd 
saw a red fire blazing up into the sky, and within the flame 
a castle, and a banner on the topmost tower. Then he 
set the horse Grani at the fire, and he leaped through it 
lightly, as if it had been through the heather. So Sigurd 
went within the castle door, and there he saw some one 
sleeping, clad all in armour. Then he took the helmet off 
the head of the sleeper., and behold she was a most beauti- 
ful lady. And she wakened and said : “ Ah ! is it Sigurd, 
Sigmund's son, who has broken the curse, and comes here 
to waken me at last ? ” 

This curse came upon her when the thorn of the tree of 
sleep ran into her hand long ago as a punishment because 
she had displeased Odin the God. Long ago, too, she had 
vowed never to marry a man who knew fear, and dared 
not ride through the fence of fire. For she was a warrior 
maid herself, and went armed into the battle like a man. 
But now she and Sigurd loved each other and promised 
to be true to each other, and he gave her a ring, and it 
was the last ring taken from the dwarf Andvari. Then 
Sigurd rode away, and he came to the house of a king 
who had a fair daughter. Her name was Gudrun, and 
her mother was a witch. Now Gudrun fell in love with 
Sigurd, but he was always talking of Brynhild, how beau- 
tiful she was and how dear. So one day Gudrun's witch 
mother put poppy and forgetful drugs in a magical cup, 
and bade Sigurd drink to her health, and he drank, and 
instantly he forgot poor Brynhild and he loved Gudrun, 
and they were married with great rejoicings. 

29 


Now the witch, the mother of Gudrun, wanted her son 
Gunnar to marry Brynhild, and she bade him ride out 
with Sigurd and go and woo her. So forth they rode to 
her father’s house, for Brynhild had quite gone out of 
Sigurd’s mind by reason of the witch’s wine, but she re- 
membered him and loved him still. Then Brynhild’s 
father told Gunnar that she would marry none but him 
who could ride the flame in front of her enchanted tower, 
and thither they rode, and Gunnar set his horse at the 
flame, but he would not face it. Then Gunnar tried 
Sigurd’s horse Grani, but he would not move with Gun- 
nar on his back. Then Gunnar remembered witchcraft 
that his mother had taught him, and by his magic he 
made Sigurd look exactly like himself, and he looked 
exactly like Gunnar. Then Sigurd, in the shape of Gun- 
nar and in his mail, mounted on Grani, and Grani leaped 
the fence of fire, and Sigurd went in and found Brynhild, 
but he did not remember her yet, because of the forgetful 
medicine in the cup of the witch’s wine. 

Now Brynhild had no help but to promise she would be 
his wife, the wife of Gunnar as she supposed, for Sigurd 
wore Gunnar’s shape and she had sworn to wed whoever 
should ride the flames. And he gave her a ring, and she 
gave him back the ring he had given her before in his 
own shape as Sigurd, and it was the last ring of that poor 
dwarf Andvari. Then he rode out again, and he and 
Gunnar changed shapes, and each was himself again, and 
they went home to the witch queen’s, and Sigurd gave the 
dwarf’s ring to his wife, Gudrun. And Brynhild went to 
her father, and said that a king had come called Gunnar, 
and had ridden the fire, and she must marry him. “ Yet 
I thought,” she said, “ fchat no man could have done this 
deed but Sigurd, Fafnir’s bane, who was my true love. 
But he has forgotten me, and my promise I must keep.” 

So Gunnar and Brynhild were married, though it was 
30 


not Gunnar, but Sigurd in Gunnar’s Bhape, that had rid- 
den the fire. 

And when the wedding was over and all the feast, then 
the magic of the witch’s wine went out of Sigurd’s brain, 
and he remembered all. He remembered how he had freed 
Brynhild from the spell, and how she was his own true 
love, and how he had forgotten and had married another 
woman, and won Brynhild to be the wife of another man. 

But he was brave, and he spoke not a word of it to the 
others to make them unhappy. Still he could not keep 
away the curse which was to come on every one who owned 
the treasure of the dwarf Andvari, and his fatal golden 
ring. 

And the curse soon came upon all of them. For one 
day, when Brynhild and Gudrun were bathing, Brynhild 
waded furthest out into the river, and said she did that 
to show she was Gudrun’s superior. For her husband, she 
said, had ridden through the flame when no other man 
had dared face it. 

Then Gudrun was very angry, and said that it was 
Sigurd, not Gunnar, who had ridden the flame, and had 
received from Brynhild that fatal ring, the ring of the 
dwarf Andvari. 

Then Brynhild saw the ring which Sigurd had given 
to Gudrun, and she knew it and knew all, and she turned 
as pale as a dead woman, and went home. All that 
evening she never spoke. Next day she ipld Gunnar, her 
husband, that he was a coward and a liar, for he had 
never ridden the flame, but had sent Sigurd to do it for 
him, and pretended he had done it himself. And she 
said he would never see her glad in his hall, never drink- 
ing wine, never playing chess, never embroidering with 
the golden thread, never speaking words of kindness. 
Then she rent all her needlework asunder and wept aloud, 
so that every one in the house heard her. For her heart 


was broken, and her pride was broken in the same hour. 
She had lost her true love, Sigurd, the slayer of Fafnir, 
and she was married to a man who was a liar. 

Then Sigurd came and tried to comfort her, but she 
would not listen, and said she wished the sword stood fast 
in his heart. 

“ Not long to wait,” he said, “ till the bitter sword 
stands fast in my heart, and thou wilt not live long when 
I am dead. But, dear Brynhild, live and be comforted, 
and love Gunnar thy husband, and I will give thee all the 
gold, the treasure of the dragon Fafnir.” 

Brynhild said : 

“It is too late.” 

Then Sigurd was so grieved and his heart so swelled in 
his breast that it burst the steel rings of his shirt of mail. 

Sigurd went out and Brynhild determined to slay him. 
She mixed serpent’s venom and wolf’s flesh, and gave them 
in one dish to her husband’s younger brother, and when 
he had tasted them he was mad, and he went into Sigurd’s 
chamber while he slept and pinned him to the bed with a 
sword. But Sigurd woke, and caught the sword Gram in 
his hand, and threw it at the man as he fled, and the 
sword cut him in twain. Thus died Sigurd, Fafnir’s bane, 
whom no ten men could have slain in fair fight. Then 
Gudrun wakened and saw him dead, and she moaned aloud, 
and Brynhild heard her and laughed; but the kind horse 
Grani lay down and died of very grief. And then Bryn- 
hild fell a-weeping till her heart broke. So they attired 
Sigurd in all his golden armour, and built a great pile 
of wood on board his ship, and at night laid on it the dead 
Sigurd and the dead Brynhild, and the good horse Grani, 
and set fire to it, and launched the ship. And the wind 
bore it blazing out to sea, flaming into the dark. So 
there were Sigurd and Brynhild burned together, and the 
curse of the dwarf Andvari was fulfilled. 

32 


THE NETTLE SPINNER 


Once upon a time there lived at Quesnoy, in Flanders, a 
great lord whose name was Burchard, but whom the coun- 
try people called Burchard the Wolf. Now Burchard had 
such a wicked, cruel heart, that it was whispered how he 
used to harness his peasants to the plough, and force them 
by blows from his whip to till his land with naked feet. 

His wife, on the other hand was always tender and piti- 
ful to the poor and miserable. 

Every time that she heard of another misdeed of her 
husband’s she secretly went to repair the evil, which caused 
her name to be blessed throughout the whole country side. 
The countess was adored as much as the count was hated. 

One beautiful day when the count was out hunting he 
passed through a forest, and at the door of a beautiful 
cottage he saw a beautiful girl spinning hemp. 

“What is your name?” he asked her. 

“Renelde, my lord.” 

“ You must get tired of staying in such a lonely place ? ” 

“ I am accustomed to it, my lord, and I never get tired 
of it.” 

“ That may be so ; but come to the castle, and I will 
make you lady’s-maid to the countess.” 

“I cannot do that, my lord. I have to look after my 
grandmother, who is very helpless.” 

“ Come to the castle, I tell you. I shall expect you this 
evening,” and he went on his way. 

But Renelde, who was betrothed to a young wood-cut- 
ter called Guilbert, had no intention of obeying the count, 
and she had, besides, to take care of her grandmother. 

Three days later the count passed by. 

33 


“ Why didn’t you come?” he asked the pretty spinner. 

" I told you, my lord, that I have to look after my grand- 
mother.” 

" Come to-morrow, and I will make you lady-in-waiting 
to the countess,” and he went on his way. 

This offer produced no more effect than the other, and 
Renelde did not go to the castle. 

"If you will only come,” said the count to her when 
next he rode by, " I will send away the countess, and will 
marry you.” 

But two years before, when Renelde’s mother was dying 
of a long illness, the countess had not forgotten them, but 
had given help when they sorely needed it. So even if 
the count had really wished to marry Renelde, she would 
always have refused. 

Some weeks passed before Burchard appeared again. 

Eenelde hoped she had got rid of him, when one day 
he stopped at the door, his duck-gun under his arm and 
his game-bag on his shoulder. This time Renelde was 
spinning not hemp, but flax. 

" What are you spinning? ” he asked in a rough voice. 

"My wedding-shift, my lord.” 

" You are going to be married, then ? ” 

"Yes, my lord, by your leave.” 

For at that time no peasant could marry without the 
leave of his master. 

" I will give you leave on one condition. Do you see 
those tall nettles that grow on the tomb in the church- 
yard ? Go gather them and spin them into two fine shifts. 
One shall be your bridal shift, and the other shall be my 
shroud. For you shall be married the day that I am laid 
in my grave.” And the count turned away with a mock- 
ing laugh. 

Renelde trembled. Never in all Locquignol had such a 
thing been heard of as the spinning of nettles. 

34 


And besides, the count seemed made of iron and was 
very proud of his strength, often boasting that he should 
live to be a hundred. 

Every evening, when his work was done, Guilbert came 
to visit his future bride. This evening he came as usual, 
and Renelde told him what Burchard had said. 

“ Would you like me to watch for the Wolf, and split 
his skull with a blow from my axe?” 

“No,” replied Renelde, “there must be no blood on 
my bridal bouquet. And then we must not hurt the count. 
Remember how good the countess was to my mother.” 

An old, old woman now spoke: she was the mother of 
Renelde’s grandmother, and was more than ninety years 
old. All day long she sat in her chair, nodding her head 
and never saying a word. 

“ My children,” she said, “ all the years that I have lived 
in the world, I have never heard of a shift spun from net- 
tles. But what God commands, man can do. Why 
should not Renelde try it ? ” 

Renelde did try, and to her great surprise the nettles, 
when crushed and prepared, gave a good thread, soft and 
light and firm. Very soon she had spun the first shift, 
which was for her own wedding. She wove and cut it out 
at once, hoping that the count would not force her to begin 
the other. Just as 6he had finished sewing it, Burchard 
the Wolf passed by. 

“Well,” said he, “how are the shifts getting on?” 

“Here, my lord, is my wedding-garment,” answered 
Renelde, showing him the shift, which was the finest and 
whitest ever seen. 

The count grew pale, but he replied roughly: “Very 
good. Now begin the other.” 

The spinner set to work. As the count returned to the 
castle a cold shiver passed over him, and he felt, as the 
saying is, that somebody was walking over his grave. He 
35 


tried to eat his supper, but could not; he went to bed 
shaking with fever. But he did not sleep, and in the morn- 
ing could not manage to rise. 

This sudden illness, which every instant became worse, 
made him very uneasy. No doubt Renelde’s spinning- 
wheel knew all about it. Was it not necessary that his 
body, as well as his shroud, should be ready for his burial ? 

The first thing Burchard did was to send to Benelde and 
to stop her wheel. 

Benelde obeyed, and that evening Guilbert asked her : 

“ Has the count given his consent to our marriage ? ” 

“No,” said Renelde. 

“ Continue your work, sweetheart. It is the only way 
of gaining it. You know he told you so himself.” 

The following morning as soon as she had put the house 
in order, the girl sat down to spin. Two hours after there 
arrived some soldiers, and when they saw her spinning 
they seized her, tied her arms and legs, and carried her to 
the bank of the river, which was swollen by the late 
rains. 

When they reached the bank they flung her in, and 
watched her sink, after which they left her. But Benelde 
rose to the surface, and though she could not swim she 
struggled to land. 

Directly she got home she sat down to spin. 

Again came the two soldiers to the cottage and seized the 
girl, carried her to the river bank, tied a stone to her neck, 
and flung her into the river. 

The moment their backs were turned the stone untied 
itself. Benelde waded the ford, returned to the hut, and 
sat down to spin. 

This time the count resolved to go to Locquignol him- 
self; but, as he was very weak and unable to walk, he had 
himself borne in a litter. And still the spinner spun. 

When he saw her he fired a shot at her, as he would 
36 


have fired at a wild beast. The bullet rebounded without 
harming the spinner, who still spun on. 

Burchard fell into such a violent rage that it nearly 
killed him. He broke the wheel into a thousand pieces, 
and then fell fainting on the ground. He was carried 
back to the castle, unconscious. 

The next day the wheel was mended, and the spinner sat 
down to spin. Feeling that while she was spinning he 
was dying, the count ordered that her hands should be tied, 
and that they should not lose sight of her one instant. 

But the guards fell asleep, the bonds loosed themselves, 
and the spinner spun on. 

Burchard had every nettle rooted up for three leagues 
round. Scarcely had they been torn from the soil when 
they sowed themselves afresh, and grew as you were look- 
ing at them. 

They sprang up even in the well-trodden floor of the cot- 
tage, and as fast as they were uprooted the distaff gath- 
ered to itself a supply of nettles, crushed, prepared, and 
ready for spinning. 

And every day Burchard grew worse, and watched his 
end approaching. 

Moved by pity for her husband, the countess at last 
found out the cause of his illness, and entreated him to 
allow himself to be cured. But the count in his pride re- 
fused more than ever to give his consent to the marriage. 

So the lady resolved to go without his knowledge to pray 
for mercy from the spinner, and in the name of Renelde’s 
dead mother, she besought her to spin no more. Eenelde 
gave her promise, but in the evening Guilbert arrived at 
the cottage. Seeing that the cloth was no further ad- 
vanced than it was the evening before, he inquired the 
reason. Eenelde confessed that the countess had prayed 
her not to let her husband die. 

“ Will he consent to our marriage ? ” 

37 


"Let him die, then.” 

" But what will the countess say ? ” 

" The countess will understand that it is not your fault ; 
the count alone is guilty of his own death.” 

" Let us wait a little. Perhaps his heart may be soft- 
ened.” 

So they waited for one month, for two, for six, for a 
year. The spinner spun no more. The count had ceased 
to persecute her, but he still refused his consent to the 
marriage. Guilbert became impatient. 

The poor girl loved him with her whole soul, and she was 
more unhappy than she had been before, when Burchard 
was only tormenting her body. 

"Let us have done with it,” said Guilbert. 

" Wait a little still,” pleaded Renelde. 

But the young man grew weary. He came more rarely 
to Locquignol, and very soon he did not come at all. 
Eenelde felt as if her heart would break, but she held firm. 

One day she met the count. She clasped her hands as 
if in prayer and cried: 

" My lord, have mercy ! ” 

Burchard the Wolf turned away his head and passed on. 

She might have humbled his pride had she gone to her 
spinning-wheel again, but she did nothing of the sort. 

Not long after this she learned that Guilbert had left the 
country. He did not even come to say good-bye to her, 
but, all the same, she knew the day and hour of his de- 
parture, and hid herself on the road to see him once more. 

When she came in she put her silent wlfeel into a corner 
and cried for three days and three nights. 

So another year went by. Then the count fell ill, and 
the countess supposed that Eenelde, weary of waiting, had 
begun her spinning anew; but when she came to the cot- 
tage to see, she found the wheel silent. 

38 


However, the count grew worse and worse till he was 
given up by the doctors. The passing bell was rung, and 
he lay expecting death to come for him. But death was 
not so near as the doctors thought, and still he lingered. 

He seemed in a desperate condition, but he got neither 
better nor worse. He could neither live nor die; he suf- 
fered horribly, and called loudly on death to put an end to 
his pains. 

In this extremity he remembered what he had told the 
little spinner long ago. If death was so slow in coming, 
it was because he was not ready to follow him, having no 
shroud for his burial. 

He sent to fetch Renelde, placed her by his bedside, and 
ordered her at once to go on spinning his shroud. 

Hardly had the spinner begun to work when the count 
began to feel his pains grow less. 

Then at last his heart melted; he was sorry for all the 
evil he had done out of pride, and implored Renelde to for- 
give him. So Renelde forgave him, and went on spinning 
night and day. 

When the thread of the nettles was spun she wove it with 
her shuttle, and then she cut the shroud and began to 
6ew it. 

And as before, when she sewed the count felt his pains 
grow less, and the life sinking within him, and when the 
needle made the last stitch he gave his last sigh. 

At the same hour Guilbert returned to the country, and, 
as he had never ceased to love Renelde, he married her 
eight days later. 

He had lost two years of happiness, but comforted him- 
self with thinking that his wife was a clever spinner, and 
what was much more rare, a brave and good woman. 


39 


ROBIN HOOD MEETS LITTLE JOHN 


One day Robin Hood took a number of his men, and went 
out through the greenwood in search of adventure. On 
reaching the border of the forest they looked out across the 
open country. 

Robin Hood said to his men, “ Stay here in the shadow 
of the trees, while I go forward alone. Perhaps some rich 
knight or abbot may be on the road, and allow us to lighten 
his purse of its load. If I need you, I will sound my 
horn.” 

So his followers stayed in the shade of the forest, while 
Robin went on alone. He strolled along the high road 
and soon came to a place where a brook ran across the 
road. Here there was a narrow bridge, without a hand- 
rail, and on this he stepped to walk across. At this 
moment a huge fellow stepped on the farther end, and each 
walked forward briskly, so that they met in the middle of 
the bridge. 

Robin said to himself, “ Here is a yeoman I would like 
to have in my band. I will try him out and see if his 
courage is equal to his stature.” 

The stranger was head and shoulders taller than Robin, 
very broad, and apparently of remarkable strength. Ho 
had a pleasant face, and his bearing showed resolution 
which hinted that he would be a very awkward person to 
cross. Robin resolved to put him to the test. 

"My man,” said he, "what do you mean by stepping 
on the bridge when you saw that I was about to cross? 
You know that there is not room enough for two.” 

The stranger leaned quietly upon his one weapon, a 
huge quarter-staff fully seven feet long, and very thick. 

40 


Truly a dangerous-looking cudgel. He smiled as he re- 
plied, “Why should I stand aside for you. I have never 
done so yet for any man, and see no reason why I should 
now.” 

“Do not bandy words with me,” said Eobin; “big as 
you are, I will show you some real Nottingham play.” 

With this Eobin Hood put an arrow to his bow, which 
he drew to his ear. “Now,” he said, “back with you, 
your life is in my hands. I could slay you with this shaft 
before you could fetch a blow at me with your staff.” 

This was merely bravado on Eobin’s part to see if the 
stranger would show fear, but the tall man just took it as 
though he had been asked how he was feeling. 

“ That would be a coward’s trick,” said he. “ Here I 
am with but a staff in my hand, and you threaten me with 
your bow and arrow. A coward’s trick.” 

“I scorn the name of a coward,” said Eobin, “there- 
fore I will lay aside my long bow and take a staff, just to 
see what you are made of.” 

Thereupon Eobin laid aside his great bow and his quiver 
of arrows, and ran to a tree beside the stream, and cut 
himself a stout staff. Then he came back to the stranger, 
who was still standing in the middle of the bridge, lean- 
ing on his quarter-staff. 

“We met here and here we will fight,” said Eobin Hood, 
“and he who knocks the other into the stream is the 
victor.” 

“ Very good,” cried the big stranger, and the two faced 
each other, making as firm as possible their uncertain 
foothold, and carefully getting into position for the assault. 

They whirled their sticks about, striking and parrying, 
each striving to get under the other’s guard. Eobin got 
in the first blow. Pretending to strike his opponent’s 
head, he swiftly changed the direction of his blow, and 
caught the stranger a tremendous thwack across the ribs. 

41 


But the stranger replied with such a terrific cut that it 
was impossible to stand before it. Bobin dodged it nim- 
bly, but did not altogether escape, receiving a cut on the 
head which caused the blood to run down his face, and this 
made him so full of wrath that he dealt a shower of blows 
at his opponent so swiftly that the big man was kept alto- 
gether on the defensive, being forced to parry all the time. 

Bobin’s staff got home on the tall man’s body with great 
frequency, but he gave way not an inch. Suddenly he 
brought his staff with all his power on Bobin Hood’s stick, 
which it broke in two, and while the force of the blow was 
somewhat broken, it was still sufficient to hurl him head- 
long into the brook. 

The water beneath was deep, and Bobin went in head 
over ears. Soon he came up spluttering and gasping for 
breath. 

The stranger laughed gleefully, and merrily chaffed his 
opponent, asking him how he felt now. 

“ You have fairly won,” said Bobin, “ and I must pay 
tribute to your bravery.” Wading to the side, he climbed 
on to the bank, and putting his horn to his lips, gave his 
own bugle call. 

Immediately his followers were seen running in their 
eagerness to reach their leader, and, seeing him in such 
sorry plight, all wet and dripping, asked him if he had 
been in the brook. 

“ Ay, that I have,” said Bobin Hood, “ and there stands 
the man who put me there.” 

“Then he must have the same treatment,” cried they; 
“we must not let him go free after using our master in 
this fashion. Let us duck him in the stream.” 

The gigantic stranger made ready to defend himself, but 
strong though he was, he would have had no chance against 
the crowd of archers. But Bobin Hood ordered them to 
leave him alone. 


42 


“This man has beaten me in fair fight,” he said; “he 
has a stout heart and I would fain be friends with him.” 
And turning to his late adversary said, “We can use your 
strong arm and stout heart; will you become a member of 
our band ? ” 

“Who are you?” asked the stranger. “There is one 
man only under whom I will serve, Robin Hood, and he 
I am now seeking. I am on my way to Sherwood Forest 
to offer him my services, and hope to join his goodly com- 
pany.” 

“ Then we are well-met, friend, for I am Robin Hood 
and these are of my company. I receive you gladly, and 
consider myself fortunate in having a recruit so proven. 
We bid you welcome. And now, what is your name ? ” 

“ My name is J ohn Little,” replied the stranger, “ and 
I’ll serve you with my whole heart.” 

When the archers heard the name, they began to laugh, 
and Will Stutely cried, “ Now that he is a member of our 
band, he must be re-christened, and seeing that he is so 
small a child we will call him Little John instead of John 
Little.” 

The jest was received with laughter and cheers, and the 
giant was accordingly renamed Little John, and in order 
to properly celebrate the christening of their new com- 
panion, Robin Hood decreed that a feast should be held in 
honour of the event 

They therefore returned to the forest, where a great fire 
was soon built and venison roasted, and the rich meat was 
washed down with great draughts of nut-brown ale. After 
the feast there was singing and dancing, and among the 
merriest was Little John, great both in heart and stature, 
whose true soul and strong arm made him a fit lieutenant 
to his renowned leader. 


43 


ANOTHER RECRUIT 


One day, soon after Little John had joined the band, he 
and his master, Robin Hood, took their bows and went in 
search of a fat buck, for the hollow oak which was their 
larder was empty. 

About midday the two outlaws saw a fine herd of deer 
before them at the far side of an open grassy space in the 
forest. 

“ Yonder is the luck we want, Little John,” said Robin 
Hood. 

He pointed to a noble stag, feeding quietly at a short 
distance from the herd, of which he was the lord and 
master. 

“ Then this is the best way to take him,” said Little 
John. “ The wind is blowing from the herd towards us. 
I will work round till the great hart can scent me on the 
breeze. He will rush in this direction, and you will then 
have an easy shot.” 

They agreed upon this plan, and Little John was just 
about to move away when he stopped short, and pointed 
but said nothing. Robin Hood looked and saw a young 
man step into the open space from the forest. The 
stranger wore a gay dress of scarlet, and carried a long- 
bow, white a stout broadsword hung at his side. No 
sooner had he left the narrow path than his glance fell 
upon the herd of deer, and the great stag, which now 
raised its head and tossed its antlers at the sight of the 
scarlet-clad figure, stamped on the earth. 

“ Who can this gay spark be ? ” said Robin Hood. 

“ I do not know him,” replied Little John, in low tones. 
“ He is not of the forest.” 

“ By my faith, I should say not,” returned the leader ; 

44 


“ yonder suit of scarlet shines like a fire among the trees. 
It were better for him to wear a dress of good Lincoln 
green if he wishes to walk in the forest. ? Tis some fop 
out of the town come to walk in the greenwood.” 

But just at this moment the two watchers saw a feat 
which brought a murmur of admiration to their lips. 

The stranger had strung his bow, snatched an arrow 
from his quiver, and laid it on the string. The movement 
had startled the stag, and he had given the alarm, and 
the whole herd was fleeing silently and swiftly. Several 
hinds had gathered around the mighty hart as if to pro- 
tect their lord, and it seemed hopeless to think of getting a 
shot at him. But just on the edge of the trees the stag 
bounded out and headed the herd for a moment. That 
moment was enough. The string twanged, the arrow flew, 
and the stag pitched forward headlong, and lay still. The 
shaft had done its work. 

“ A noble shot, and by no fop from the town, Little 
John,” said Robin Hood. “ Wait here, while I go to speak 
with him.” 

So Little John remained hidden in the thicket, while 
Robin Hood walked up to the stranger, who now stood 
beside the great deer which he had slain. 

“ A fine shpt ! ” said Robin, as he walked up to the 
place. “Your shaft was loosed in the very nick of time, 
stranger.” 

The young man in scarlet looked coolly at Robin, but 
made no reply. 

“I love a bold archer,” went on Robin Hood, “and 
draw to me all I can. Will you become a yeoman of mine, 
stranger ? ” 

“ And pray who are you ? ” said the young man in scarlet 
in a rather scornful tone, “and why should I become thy 
yeoman? Are you some kind of Forester in the King’s 
service ? ” 


45 


" Truly I am — for the King of Sherwood ! ” chuckled 
Robin. 

"Whether you are King of England or King of Sher- 
wood is nothing to me/’ drawled the gallant; "go your 
own way, and trouble me not. I wish to have nothing to 
do with you.” 

" And what if I do not leave you alone ? ” said Robin. 

"Why,” returned the other, "you will remain at the 
peril of a beating.” 

" This seems a cool fellow,” said Robin to himself ; " I 
will make a trial of him and see if his courage is as great 
as it seems.” 

So while the young man in scarlet began to examine 
the horns of the deer he had shot, as calmly as though no 
one were within a mile of him, Robin secretly slipped an 
arrow on the string. Then he cried " Ha ! ” and stamped 
his foot. The young man turned, and saw Robin’s bow 
bent, and an arrow laid full upon his heart. He did not 
flinch, but merely said in a vexed tone, " Get thee gone, 
Forester! What means this foolish play?” 

" Do you call an arrow between your ribs foolish play ? ” 
growled Robin Hood. " I am the enemy of all such fool- 
ish sprigs as you; throw down your purse, and quickly, 
lest I loose the string.” 

"Well, well,” said the young man, "there is strong 
argument in a grey goose shaft,” and he made as though 
to take his purse from his girdle. 

But instead of unloosing the purse he clapped an arrow 
to his own bow, and bent the latter with wonderful speed ; 
so there they stood, each ready to shoot, and Robin, who 
had never dreamed of letting his arrow fly, saw that he 
was likely to be paid back in his own coin. 

"Stay your hand!” cried Robin; "there is no use in 
our slaying each other.” 

The stranger replied, as coolly as ever, "Hone at all 
46 


that I can see, but the game was of your beginning, not 
mine.” 

Robin Hood took his arrow from the string, and said, 
“ Then I end it.” The stranger did the same and waited 
to see what the outlaw would do next. 

“ Each of us has sword and buckler,” said Robin, “ and 
it were a shame for us to part without seeing who is the 
better man.” 

The stranger agreed, and so each arranged his buckler 
on his left arm, and took his sword in his right hand. 
Then clash! clang! they were cutting, parrying, thrust- 
ing. But so skilful were they and so evenly matched, 
that they fought for an hour without either having given 
way an inch before the other. 

At length the stranger made a lucky stroke, and the 
point of his sword touched Robin’s head, causing the 
blood to flow into his eyes, so that he could not see; and 
at this Little John ran from his hiding-place. 

“ Give me your sword ! ” he cried to Robin Hood, “ and 
he shall try a bout with me, master. I can play at this 
game too.” 

“Not so, Little John!” cried Robin Hood, wiping the 
blood from his eyes; “this man has fought long, fairly, 
and honestly, and ’twere a shame to set a fresh man 
against him.” 

“I like it not that this gay fellow may brag to his 
friends that he drew blood from Robin Hood, and went free.” 

At this the gallant showed much interest. “Have I 
met and fought with Robin Hood, and yet not known 
him?” he cried. “Rob, have you forgotten Will Game- 
well?” 

“Forgotten my cousin, whom I first taught to draw a 
bow ? ” said Robin. “ But can you be he ? Ha ! now I 
know your smile and your voice; and to think we should 
have fought each other.” 


47 


The cousins shook hands heartily, and then Little John 
took GamewelPs hand in turn. 

“ But what are you doing here, Will?” asked Robin 
Hood. 

“ I was looking for you, Rob,” was the answer. “ Un- 
willingly I have shed a man’s blood, and am now an out- 
law too. I was out hunting with old Grimm, the steward, 
and while waiting for a deer to pass, I turned and found 
him bending his bow, with the arrow laid upon me. I at 
once loosed a shaft at him, and we shot together. His 
arrow went through my doublet, but mine went through his 
body, and in five minutes he was a dead man. But be- 
fore he died, he confessed that he had agreed to slay me 
for a great reward.” 

“ Foul treachery ! ” cried Robin Hood. “ And what 
happened to you then, cousin?” 

“Why, as ill-luck would have it, the manner of the 
steward’s death came at once to the ears of the man who 
had hired him to kill me, and he set the sheriff speedily 
upon my track. To have me hanged for murder would 
serve his purpose just as well.” 

“ That is easy to see,” replied Robin Hood. “ And 
now, welcome to Sherwood and to our company. This is 
Little John, the biggest of us all.” 

Will Gamewell and Little John again shook hands, and 
Robin continued, “It will be wise to drop your old name 
now that you are an outlaw, and as you are dressed in 
scarlet, Scarlet you shall be called. I christen you Will 
Scarlet, and with a new name you shall be a new man, 
and free of the forest.” 

So Will Scarlet joined Robin Hood’s company and 
swore to be true to his laws; and he presented to his fel- 
low members the great stag for a feast of friendship. 


48 


ROBIN HOOD AND THE SHERIFFS PRIZE 


The Bishop was in a very bad humour, because Robin 
Hood had compelled him, much against his will, to marry 
Allan-a-Dale and his true love. He went to the Sheriff 
of Nottingham to make complaint, and talked to him in 
such fashion that the latter became very uneasy lest the 
Bishop tell the King that his representative was un- 
able to maintain law and order in the county. So he 
thought the best thing he could do was to see the King 
himself, and tell him how difficult it was to catch Robin 
Hood, who had so bold and strong a company of outlaws, 
devoted to their leader. 

“ I cannot help you,” said the King, when the matter 
was laid before him. “ It is your business to uphold the 
law and to get these offenders into your power, and if you 
fail, it will be the worse for you.” 

The King was angry, so the Sheriff went hastily from 
his presence, and during the long ride back to Notting- 
ham, he cudgelled his brains trying to think of a plot 
whereby he could capture Robin Hood and his followers. 

At last an idea came to him, and he said to his Chief 
Forester, who was with him, “I have thought of a plan 
which will surely draw these rogues into Nottingham 
town. All know that Robin Hood and his men boast of 
their skill as archers, and if I proclaim a great shooting 
match to be held at Nottingham, the chief prize to be an 
arrow with golden feathers and silver shaft, and the win- 
ner to be known as the champion of all archers, the bait 
will be one they cannot resist.” 

“ Splendid ! ” cried the Chief Forester, “ it is bound to 
bring them to your hand.” 

“They will never submit to see that title won by any 
49 


other without some of them making an effort to win it, 
and I will have men who know them ready to seize them,” 
said the Sheriff. 

The great shooting match was duly proclaimed, and the 
news spread far and wide. The outlaws heard that 
famous archers from all over the country would contest 
for the prize and title. 

Eobin said to his men, "We count ourselves good bow- 
men, and must not allow the title to be won by another 
without making an effort to gain it.” 

" Have a care, master ! ” said one of his followers ; " I 
have heard that this is merely a trick to draw us into the 
town.” 

"We are not cowards,” said Eobin Hood; "trick or 
no, I’ll try my skill.” 

" I have a plan which will take us there in safety,” said 
Little John. "We’ll dress ourselves like countryfolk 
going to the match, and leave at home our cloaks and 
doublets of Lincoln green. One shall wear white, another 
red, another blue, and so attend the exercises in disguise. 
The Sheriff’s men will not know us.” 

"Very good. Little John,” cried the leader; "we will 
follow your plan.” 

When the day of the great match arrived, Eobin Hood 
with his most skilled archers set out for Nottingham. 
They went singly, and in twos and three's, so that they 
should not attract attention, and they scattered themselves 
among the throng which had come to witness the sport. 
Eobin Hood went alone, and he wore a ragged red coat 
and hood, and carried his bow over his shoulder. He 
passed straight through the gate, beside which stood some 
of the Sheriff’s men, who were watching carefully to see 
if they could recognise any of the outlaws. 

The Sheriff sat on horseback at the place where the 
butts were set up for the match. He was surrounded by 

50 


a strong body of soldiers, and looked on every hand for 
some sign of Robin Hood and his followers, but saw no 
sign of any man belonging to the band he sought to cap- 
ture. 

The shooting began, and soon the rivalry was narrowed 
down to a famous archer called William of York, and a 
number of country fellows poorly dressed in jackets of 
various colours. 

At last it became a match between William of York 
and the man in the ragged red jacket, and so evenly were 
they shooting, that it was decided to put up a fresh butt 
at a much greater distance, so far, in fact, that the people 
doubted whether the arrows would even reach the mark. 
The crowd waited in silence to see which of the two should 
be the victor. 

“We have seen such remarkable archery,” said the 
Chief Forester to the Sheriff, “that even Robin Hood 
himself could not have bettered.” 

“ I was sure he would have been here,” said the Sheriff, 
“but even he is not bold enough to put in an appearance 
now.” 

And almost at his side stood the archer in the ragged 
red coat, looking like an awkward country bumpkin, hear- 
ing all that the Sheriff said. 

William of York had the first trial at the new butt, and 
put two arrows in the very centre of the target, while the 
third stuck in one of the outer rings. As there were to 
be only three arrows used, it looked as though he had won 
the prize. 

“ Better save your strength, Red J acket ! ” shouted 
William’s friends. “ Give up, you cannot beat that 
shooting ! ” 

But Red Jacket said, “I’ll do my best though,” and 
added, to himself, “ for the honour of Sherwood and Robin 
Hood.” 


51 


Then he took three shafts in hand and discharged them 
so rapidly that they were flying through the air almost 
at the same time. To the wonderment of the amazed 
spectators the two arrows which William of York had 
placed in the centre were struck out by the first and 
second, while the third reached the exact centre. 

The multitude roared, “ Here is the prince of archers ; 
such shooting has never before been seen. Red Jacket 
has won the prize.” 

The Sheriff presented the coveted gold and silver arrow 
to the victor, and begged him to join his band of Foresters. 

But Robin said “No,” and that he must go home to his 
master. 

And so, in twos and threes, as they had come, the out- 
laws returned in safety to the greenwood, where they 
jested merrily over the day’s sport. 

But the winner himself was not quite satisfied, and 
Little John asked him why he did not seem so happy as 
the others after having tricked the Sheriff. 

“ There is the point,” replied Robin Hood. “ He does 
not know that I have carried off the prize.” 

“Leave that to me,” said Little John. “You write a 
letter to him, and I’ll stick it on my arrow head, and 
shoot it into the town, and it will be delivered to him.” 

Robin wrote the letter, and Little John returned to the 
town, still wearing his blue jacket. The Sheriff lived in 
a large house near the wall and Little John noticed that a 
window of the great hall was standing open, so fixing the 
letter to the head of a shaft, he drew his bow and sent the 
arrow clean through the opening. Then he returned to 
the forest. 

It so happened that the Sheriff was sitting down to 
supper, and as he was raising a horn of ale to his lips, the 
shaft, with the billet at its head, came through the open 
window, and stuck into the table right before him. 

52 


He unrolled the paper from the shaft, read what was 
written there, and to the surprise of the company dashed 
down Ihe horn of ale upon the table with such force that 
the horn was broken into pieces. 

The Sheriff shook with rage. “ To think,” he roared, 
“ that the outlaw Eobin Hood was by my very side all 
day, and has slipped through my fingers; and he none 
other than Eed Jacket.” 

“ Sheriff,” said one of his friends, “ we ought to have 
known that none but Robin Hood could shoot as that 
man did.” 

His anger was not at all appeased by his friend’s words, 
and he vowed that on the morrow he would lead an army 
against his enemy, dust his red jacket for him, and then 
hang him on the spot before he had a chance to escape him 
again. 


THE CRUMB IN THE BEARD 

There was once a king who had a daughter named Stella. 
She was indescribably beautiful, but was so whimsical 
and hard to please, that she drove her father nearly to 
despair. There had been princes and kings who had 
sought her in marriage, but she found defects in 
them all, and would have none of them. 

She kept advancing in years, and her father began to 
despair of knowing to whom he should leave his crown. 
So he summoned his council, and discussed the matter. 
They advised him to give a great banquet, to which he 
should invite all the princes and kings of the surrounding 
countries, for, as they said, among so many there cannot 
fail to be some one who should please the princess, who 
was to hide behind the door, so that she could examine 
them all as she pleased. 


53 


When the king heard this advice, he gave the orders 
necessary for the banquet, and then called his daughter, 
and said: “ Listen, my little Stella, I am growing old, 
and must have some one to leave my crown to. To this 
end I have invited many princes and kings to a banquet, 
and from among them you must select a husband.” 

Stella bowed her head, saying that she would do his 
bidding. 

In due time the guests arrived, and when it was time 
for the banquet, they all seated themselves at the table. 
It was a very grand affair, and in each corner of the hall 
was a fountain which continually sent forth wine and the 
most exquisite perfumes. While the gentlemen were eat- 
ing, Stella was behind a door and one of her maids pointed 
out to her now this one, and now that. 

But to each of them Stella had some objection. This 
one had too large a nose; that one had too large a mouth; 
another one’s eyes were like saucers. In short she found 
fault with all but one, who, she said, pleased her, but 
even he, she said, must be a dirty fellow, because he had 
a crumb on his beard after eating. 

The youth heard her say this, and vowed to be re- 
venged. He was a very handsome young man, and the 
son of the King of Green Hill. 

When the banquet was finished, and the guests had de- 
parted, the king asked Stella if she had made her choice. 
She replied that the only one who pleased her was the 
one with the crumb in his beard, but that she believed he 
was a dirty fellow, and did not want him. 

“ Take care, my daughter, you will repent it,” said her 
father as he turned away angrily. 

Now Stella’s chamber overlooked a court-yard into 
which opened the shop of a baker. One night, while she 
was preparing to retire, she heard, in the room where they 
sifted the meal, some one singing with so much grace that 
54 


it went to her heart. She ran to the window and listened 
until he finished. Then she asked her maid who the 
man with the beautiful voice could be, and asked her to 
find out. 

“ Very well,” said the maid, “ I will inform you to- 
morrow.” 

Early the next day she learned that he who sang was 
the sifter, and in the evening Stella heard him sing again, 
and stood by the window until everything had become 
quiet. But the voice had so touched her heart, that she 
told her maid she would try and see the singer. 

In the morning she placed herself by the window, and 
saw the youth come forth. She was enchanted by his 
beauty, and fell desperately in love with him. 

You must know that this young man was none other 
than the prince whom Stella had called “ dirty ” at the 
banquet. He had disguised himself, and was preparing 
his revenge. After he had seen her once or twice he 
began to take off his hat and salute her. She smiled at 
him, and soon they began to exchange words. In the 
evening he sang under her window, and they began to 
make love in earnest. He learned that she was free, and 
asked her to marry him. He said that he earned barely 
enough to support himself, but Stella encouraged him, 
saying that she would give him all the money he could 
wish for. 

Now Stella’s father and the prince’s father knew all 
about this love affair, but agreed between them to punish 
her for her pride, and therefore let her carry away from 
the palace whatever she wished. She made great bundles 
of clothes, and silver and gold, and at night, when the 
disguised prince came under the balcony, she threw them 
down to him. 

Things went on in this manner until finally he said the 
time had come for her to elope. 

55 


Stella waited impatiently until the following night, 
when she quietly tied a cord about her, and let herself 
down from the window. The prince helped her to the 
ground, took her arm, and they hastened away, and were 
married. 

They walked a long way to another city, and when they 
came to a certain house, the prince opened the door, led 
her down a long passage at the end of which they came 
to a mean room which had only one window. The furni- 
ture consisted of a straw bed, a bench, and a dirty table. 

You can imagine that when Stella found herself in this 
place, she thought she would die. The prince asked her 
what the matter was. He said he had told her how poor 
he was, and that he had not deceived her. 

Stella asked him what he had done with all the things 
she had given him, and he replied that he had sold them 
in order to pay many debts that he owed. And also that 
she must make up her mind to work as well as he. 

“You must know,” said he, “that I am a porter of 
the king of this cit}>, and often work at the palace. To- 
morrow the washing there is to be done, so you must rise 
early and go with me there. I will set you to work with 
the other w^omen, and when it is time for them to go 
home to dinner, you will say that you are not hungry, and 
while you are alone, steal two shirts, conceal them under 
your dress, and carry them home to me.” 

Poor Stella wept bitterly, saying it was impossible for 
her to do that, but her husband replied: “Do what I 
say, or I shall beat you.” 

The next morning her husband arose at dawn, and 
made her get up, too. He had bought her a striped skirt, 
and a pair of coarse shoes, which he made her put on, and 
then took her to the palace with him, conducted her to 
the laundry and left her, after having introduced her as 
his wife. Then the prince ran and dressed himself like 

56 


a king, and waited at the gate of the palace until it was 
time for her to leave. 

Meanwhile poor Stella did as her husband had com- 
manded, and stole the shirts. As she was leaving the pal- 
ace, she met the king, who said : “ Pretty girl, you are 

our porter’s wife, are you not?” Then he asked her 
what she had under her skirt, and shook her until the 
shirts dropped out and the king cried : “ See ! the por- 

ter’s wife is a thief; she has stolen some shirts.” Stella 
ran home, crying bitterly, and her husband followed her 
when he had put on his disguise again. 

As soon as he reached home, Stella told him all that 
had happened, and begged him not to send her to the pal- 
ace again; but he told her that the next day they were to 
bake, and that she must go into the kitchen and help, and 
steal some dough. 

Everything happened as on the previous day. Stella’s 
theft was discovered, and when her husband returned 
home, he found her bathed in tears, and saying that she 
would rather be killed than go to the palace again. 

He told her, however, that the king’s son was to be 
married the next day, and that there was to be a great 
banquet, and she must go into the kitchen and wash the 
dishes. He added that when she had the chance, she 
must steal a pot of broth and hide it about her so that 
no one should see it. 

She had to do as she was told, and had scarcely con- 
cealed the pot when the king’s son came into the kitchen 
and told his wife she must come to the ball that followed 
the banquet. She did not wish to go, but he took her by 
the arm and led her into the midst of the festival. 

Imagine how the poor woman felt at that ball, dressed 
as she was, and wflth the pot of broth! The king began 
to poke his sword at her in jest, until he hit the pot, and 
all the broth ran on the floor. They all began to jeer 
57 


her and laugh, until poor Stella fainted away from shame, 
and they had to go and get some vinegar to revive her. 

At last the king’s mother came forward and said: 
“ Enough, you have revenged yourself sufficiently.” Then 
turning to Stella, she said: “Know that this is your 
mother, and that he has done this to correct your pride 
and to be avenged on you for calling him dirty.” 

Then she took her by the arm and led her to another 
room, where her maids dressed her as a queen. Her 
father and mother then appeared and kissed and em- 
braced her. Her husband begged her pardon for what he 
had done, and they made peace and always lived together 
in harmony. 

From that day she was never haughty, and had learned 
to her cost that pride is the greatest fault. 


THE MAGIC JAR 

There was once a young fellow whom fortune had 
blessed with a good mother, a clever head, and a strong 
body. But beyond this she had not much favoured him; 
and though able and willing to work, he had often little 
to do, and less to eat. But his mother had taught him to 
be contented with his own lot, and to feel for others. 
Moreover, from her he inherited a great love for flowers. 

One day, when his pockets were emptiest, a fair was 
held in the neighbouring town, and he must needs go as 
well as the rest, though he had no money to spend. But 
he stuck a buttercup in his cap, for which he had nothing 
to pay, and strode along as merrily as the most. 

Towards evening some of the merrymakers became riot- 
ous; and a party of them fell upon an old Jew who was 
keeping a stall of glass and china, and would smash his 
58 


stock. Now as the Jew stood before his booth beseeching 
them to spare his property, up came the strong young 
man, with the flower still unwithered in his cap, and he 
took the old Jew’s part and defended him. For from 
childhood his mother had taught him to feel for others. 

So those who would have ill-treated the old Jew now 
moved off, and the young man stayed with him till he had 
packed up his wares. 

Then the Jew turned towards him and said, “My son, 
he who delivers the oppressed, and has respect unto the 
aged, has need of no reward, for the blessing of Him that 
blesseth is about him. Nevertheless, that I may not seem 
ungrateful, choose, I pray thee, one of these china jars; 
and take it to thee for thine own. If thou shalt choose 
well, it may be of more use to thee than presently ap- 
pears.” 

Thereupon the young man examined the jars, which 
were highly ornamented with many figures and devices; 
but he chose one that was comparatively plain; only it 
had a bunch of flowers painted on the front, round which 
was a pretty device in spots or circles of gold. 

Then said the Jew, “My son, why have you chosen this 
jar, when there are others so much finer?” 

The young man said, “Because the flowers please me, 
and I have a love for flowers.” 

Then said the Jew, “ Happy is he whose tastes are sim- 
ple ! Moreover, herein is a rare wisdom, and thou hast 
gained that which is the most valuable of my possessions. 
This jar has properties which I will further explain to 
thee. It was given to me by a wise woman, subject to 
this condition, that I must expose it for sale from sunrise 
to sunset at the yearly fair. When I understood this I 
took counsel with myself how I should preserve it; and I 
bought other china jars of more apparent value, and I 
marked them all with the same price. For I said within 
59 


myself, ‘ There is no man who does not desire to get as 
much as he can for his money, therefore from its con- 
trast with the others, my jar is safe/ And it was even 
so; for truly, many have desired to buy the jar because of 
the delicate beauty of the flowers, if I would have sold it 
for less than others which seemed more valuable/’ 

“ Many times it has been almost gone, but when I have 
shown the others at the same price, my customers have 
reviled me, saying, ‘Dog of a Jew, dost thou ask as much 
for this as for these others which are manifestly worth 
double?’ and they have either departed, taking nothing, 
or they have bought one of the more richly decorated jars 
at the same price. For verily in most men the spirit of 
covetousness is stronger than the love of beauty, and they 
rather desire to get much for their money, than to obtain 
that which is suitable and convenient.” 

“ But in thee, oh, young man ! I have beheld a rare 
wisdom. To choose that which is good in thine eyes, and 
suitable to thy needs, rather than that which satisfieth 
the lust of over-reaching; and lo! what I have so long 
kept from thousands, has become thine ! ” 

Then the young man wished to restore to the Jew the 
jar he valued so highly, and to choose another. 

But the J ew refused, saying, “ A gift cannot be re- 
called. Moreover I will now explain to thee its uses. 
Within the jar lies a toad, whose spit is poison. But it 
will never spit at its master. Every evening thou must 
feed it with bread and milk, when it will fall asleep; and 
at sunrise in the morning it will awake and breathe 
heavily against the side of the jar, which will thus become 
warm. As it warms the flowers will blossom out, and 
become real, and full of perfume, and thou wilt be able 
to pluck them without diminishing their number. More- 
over, these twelve round spots of gold will drop off, and 
become twelve gold pieces, which will be thine. And 

60 


thus it will be every day. Only thou must rise thyself 
with the sun, and gather the flowers and the gold with 
thine own hands. Furthermore, when the jar cools, the 
flowers’ gilding will be as before. Fare thee well.” 

And even as he spoke the Jew lifted the huge crate 
of china on to his back, and disappeared among the 
crowd. 

All came about as the Jew had promised. As he had 
twelve gold pieces a day, the young man now wanted for 
nothing, besides which he had fresh flowers on his table 
all the year round. 

Now it is well said, “Thy business is my business, and 
the business of all beside ; ” for every man’s affairs are his 
neighbours’ property. Thus it came about that all those 
who lived near the young man were perplexed that he had 
such beautiful flowers in all seasons; and esteemed it as 
an injury to themselves that he should have them and give 
no explanation as to whence they came. 

At last it came to the ears of the king, and he also 
was disturbed. For he was curious, and fond of prying 
into small matters ; a taste which ill becomes those of high 
position. But the king had no child to succeed him; 
and he was always suspecting those about him of plotting 
to obtain the crown, and thus he came to be for ever pry- 
ing into the affairs of his subjects. 

Now when he heard of the young man who had flowers 
on his table all the year round, he desired one of his of- 
ficers to go and question him as to how he obtained them. 
But the young man contrived to evade his questions, 
and the matter rested for a while. 

Then the king sent another messenger, with orders to 
press the young man more closely; and because the young 
man disdained to tell a lie, he said, “I get the flowers 
from yon china jar.” 

Then the messenger returned, and said to the king, 
61 


“ The young man says he gets the flowers from a certain 
china jar which stands in his room.” 

Then said the king, “ Bring the contents of the jar 
hither to me.” And the messenger returned and brought 
the toad. 

But when the king laid hold upon the toad, it spat in 
his face; and he was poisoned and died. 

Then the toad sat upon the king’s mouth, and would 
not be enticed away. And every one feared to touch it 
because it spat poison. And they called the wise men 
of the council; and they performed certain rites to charm 
away the toad, and yet it would not go. 

But after three days, the master of the toad came to 
the palace, and without saying who he was, he desired to 
be permitted to try and get the toad from the corpse of 
the king. 

And when he was taken into the king’s chamber, he 
stood and beckoned to the toad, saying, “ The person of 
the king, and the bodies of the dead are sacred, there- 
fore come away.” 

And the toad crawled from the king’s face and came to 
him, and did not spit at him ; and he put it back into the 
jar. 

Then the wise men said, “ There is no one so fit to 
succeed to the kingdom as this man is; both for wisdom 
of speech and for the power of command.” 

And what they said pleased the people; and the young 
man was made king. And in due time he married an 
amiable and talented princess, and had children. And he 
ruled the kingdom well and wisely, and was beloved till 
his death. 

Now when, after the lapse of many years, he died, 
there was great grief among the people, and his body 
was laid out in his own room, and the people were per- 
mitted to come and look upon his face for the last time. 

62 


And among the crowd there appeared an aged Jew. 
And he did not weep as did the others; but he came and 
stood by the bier, and gazed upon the face of the dead 
king in silence. And after a while he exclaimed, 

“ Oh, wonderful spectacle ! A man and not covetous. 
A ruler, and not oppressive. Contented in poverty, and 
moderate in wealth. Elect of the people, and beloved to 
the end!” 

And when he had said this, he again became silent and 
stood as one astonished. 

And no one knew when he came in, nor perceived when 
he departed. 

But when they came to search for the china jar, it was 
gone, and could never afterwards be found. 


THE STORY OF URASHIMA, THE FISHER 
BOY 

Many, many years ago, in the days when Japan was 
young, there lived in a small fishing village, far away in 
the province of Tango, a young fisher boy named Uras- 
hima Taro. He was the most skilful fisher in all that 
part of the country, and each evening as he trudged 
wearily yet happily backwards from the seashore to his 
little home, he might have been seen carrying on his back 
a huge basket 'full of “ bonite ” and “ tai.” People said 
Urashima could catch more fish in a day than other people 
could catch in a week. Every one loved Urashima, for 
not only was he a skilful fisher of the sea, but he had 
also a kind and good heart. 

Time went quickly by, and now Urashima, the fisher 
boy, had become a young man; but he had still the same 
loving and gentle manner as he had when he was younger. 

63 


One beautiful summer evening he was returning as 
usual to his little home, when he noticed a group of 
children in a state of great excitement over something 
which they seemed to have caught. 

“Let me thrash him with my stick/’ shouted one boy. 
“No! let me pelt these stones and try to break his hard 
shell,” said another. Coming up to the children, Uras- 
hima noticed they were ill-treating a poor tortoise, so he 
at once made up his mind to try and save it. “ Stop, 
stop, boys ! ” he called out very loudly, “ how cruel it is 
of you to hurt a poor dumb animal like that ! ” 

“ Who are you ? ” answered one of the boys. “We found 
this tortoise, and we will do what we want with it. Go 
on, boys, and take no notice of this interfering fellow.” 
But Urashima felt very sorry to see them teasing the poor 
tortoise, so he cried out again, “Look, boys, I know you 
are not really bad boys, so please let me buy the tortoise 
from you. Here is the money ” — and he held up a long 
string of coins. 

Now the boys were won with his gentle words and his 
pleasant face, so they accepted the money and gave 
Urashima the poor frightened tortoise, scampering away 
as soon as they had done so. As soon as the kind-hearted 
Urashima got the tortoise, he folded it in his arms, and 
patted its head, saying, “You poor old thing, how sorry 
I am for you; but you soon will be all right now, for I 
shall take you back to the big blue sea. My father tells 
me that the Japanese people say a tortoise lives for ten 
thousand years, so how glad I was to come just in time 
to save this long life of yours,” saying which Urashima 
again stroked and patted the animal’s head. He soon 
reached a rocky ledge jutting out into the sea, and the kind 
fisherman, after saying “ Sayonara ” several times to his 
strange friend, put it into the water and watched it dis- 
appear. Urashima, being now very tired after his long 
64 



“ He noticed a group of children in a state of great excitement ” 























day’s toil out at sea, turned himself homewards, for the 
evening hour was getting late, as the sun had long since 
set. Next morning broke beautiful and fresh; the soft 
summer winds were blowing out upon the waters, which 
seemed so calm and blue that summer morning. Every- 
thing seemed happy, and as Urashima pushed his boat out 
from the shore, he too, felt unusually happy and bright 
this morning. Far out upon the blue sea his boat lay, and 
as he sat surveying the peaceful scene around, with his lines 
let down in the water beside him, he imagined he heard 
a voice calling him. 

Putting his hand to his ear, he listened attentively. 
Yes, sure enough some one was calling his name. " Uras- 
hima, Urashima ! ” floated his name over the summer 
sea. " Urashima, Urashima ! ” it sounded again, like the 
music of distant waters. Urashima stood up, and gazed 
in every direction, but over the wide expanse of water 
nothing could he see. Hearing at last the gentle ripple 
of a wave alongside his boat, he turned, and saw, to his 
great surprise, that it was the very same tortoise he had 
saved the day before. 

" Oh, my dear Mr. Tortoise*” said Urashima, " how de- 
lighted I am to see you again. Was that your sweet voice 
calling my name?” 

"Yes, it was I. Yesterday my life would have gone 
to the Eternal Ocean in Nirvana but for your great kind- 
ness, and as you so bravely saved my life, I have come to 
thank you.” 

"Please condescend to come into my boat,” said Uras- 
hima. So the tortoise climbed up into the fisherman’s 
boat, and began to chat freely to his kind-hearted friend. 

"Have you ever seen the palace of the great Dragon 
King of the Sea, my dear Urashima?” "No, I am sorry 
to say I haven’t,” replied Urashima. " I have heard it is 
a most lovely place, far more beautiful than Nikko, or 

65 


Miyajama; and that it is the most wonderful sight to be 
seen in all the Sea Kingdom.” “ That is it,” said the tor- 
toise; “its loveliness cannot be expressed. But if you 
would like to go there, I shall very gladly act as your 
guide, for I am sorry to think you should miss such a 
fine sight.” 

“Thank you very much, my dear friend,” said TJras- 
hima, “but you see I do not live in the sea like you, 
and therefore would not be able to 6wim such a long way.” 
“Never trouble,” quickly replied the tortoise; “just jump 
on my back and off we shall go at once.” So TJrashima 
got on the back of his strange water-steed, and in a few 
moments they were both down far, far below the sparkling 
blue waters. On they went, the tortoise swimming deeper 
and deeper and TJrashima sitting quite steady on its back. 
Now they passed a big shark, but it did not attempt to 
bite TJrashima. Now they approached a long-armed octo- 
pus, but it also did the strange companions no harm. 
TJrashima was charmed and delighted with everything he 
saw, and just as he was telling the tortoise so, he spied in 
the distance the shining gate of a large building. 

“Mr. Tortoise! what place is that?” said TJrashima, 
pointing in the direction of the shining gate. 

“That is the beautiful gate of the Dragon Eng’s 
palace, and behind it you may notice the golden roof of 
the palace.” “ Oh, yes ! ” cried TJrashima, with great joy, 
“ I notice it now. So this is where the great Dragon King 
of the Sea lives?” “That is so,” replied the tortoise, 
and as he 6poke the great shining gate was flung open, 
and a tall sentinel, which was a sword-fish, stepped out and 
demanded their business. 

“This is TJrashima Taro, from the country of Japan. 
I have brought him to visit the palace,” said the tortoise 
very humbly. 


.66 


“ Enter ! ” said the sword-fish, “ hut please write your 
name in the visitors’ book first.” 

So after TJrashima had written his name, another serv- 
ant of the Dragon King, who was also a fish, came forward 
and led them into the waiting hall. 

Soon, a great number of the officers of His Sea Majesty’s 
household came out from an inner room, and welcomed 
TJrashima in the name of the Dragon King, saying: 
“Hail! TJrashima Taro, from the Land of the Eising 
Sun! Happy and glad are we to see you! We welcome 
you in the King’s name ! Hail ! Hail ! Hail ! ” 

Now TJrashima was not used to such a kingly welcome, 
and he felt a little troubled in not knowing how to answer 
this splendid reception of the Dragon King’s. So he 
bowed to the floor, touching his head on the shiny mats 
as he did so, and said very humbly, “ Arigato ! Arigato ! ” 
which is to say, “Thank you.” Oh! how insignificant 
he thought himself before this glorious array of shining 
officers, each dressed in scarlet and gold lace! But they 
treated him very kindly, and told him to make himself 
quite at home. Then they led him away to an inner part 
of the palace. Here the Dragon King’s daughter came 
out to welcome him. She was the most beautiful human 
being TJrashima had ever seen. Her flowing kimono was 
of scarlet and purple silk; her over-dress was interwoven 
with gold and silver thread; and her mass of rich black 
hair hung loosely over her shoulders, among which were 
interlaced strings of sea-corals and pearls. The Princess 
said she was very glad to receive so great a guest as TJras- 
hima, and, after conducting him to the place of honour, 
told him something which filled him with the greatest sur- 
prise. “ My dear Urashima,” said the Princess in a won- 
derfully sweet voice, “ I want to thank you very much for 
saving my life yesterday.” 


67 


“What!” replied TJrashima, “I saved your life! 
When?” 

“Yesterday,” continued the Princess, “you saved the 
life of a poor tortoise, and I was that tortoise; so receive 
my thousand thanks.” On hearing these words, TJrashima 
was too overjoyed to speak. He looked at the lovely face 
of the Princess; then looked round at the beautiful room, 
and thought he must he dreaming. Pishes, red, blue, 
white, and black, all dressed in the richest garments, 
walked silently about from room to room of the palace, 
and whenever they passed by the Princess and TJrashima 
they bowed with their faces to the floor. Everything 
shone with dazzling splendour, so that TJrashima told the 
Princess it was the most wonderful place he had ever seen. 
After a week had passed, the Dragon King was pleased 
to give his daughter in marriage to TJrashima. So after 
a few days more they became husband and wife, and loved 
each other very much, for the Princess was beautiful and 
good, and TJrashima had a brave and kind heart. 

Now while TJrashima was enjoying himself in this splen- 
did palace under the sea, the days and months were going 
quickly by, until one day he suddenly remembered he had 
not told his poor father and mother where he was going, 
and how they would doubtless be grieving for him; so he 
went to his beautiful wife, the Princess, and told her that 
he was very sorry, but he must go back to his aged parents 
whom he had left on earth. Oh, how the beautiful Prin- 
cess did weep! The fish servants brought her handker- 
chief after handkerchief until every handkerchief in the 
palace was wet with tears. 

“ Then,” said the troubled Princess, “ I will not keep 
you from your loving parents, but will let you go; only, 
my dear TJrashima, sometimes think of me here longing 
and waiting for you. Won’t you ? Promise me this, that 
you will never forget me. Take this,” continued the sad 

68 


Princess, “ as a remembrance of our love.” And she gave 
him a beautiful red lacquered box, tied about with many 
silken cords. “ I give you this only to remind you 
of me. This box must not be opened; if you open it, 
something dreadful will happen to you. Now, Sayonara, 
my love ! My joys go with thee ! Sayonara ! Sayonara ! ” 
And saying this, the Princess again wept bitterly. 

After Urashima had also said “ Sayonara,” he found the 
tortoise all ready waiting for him, so, quickly mounting 
upon its back, he was carried up, higher and higher through 
the shining sea, until at last, when they had reached the 
surface, Urashima saw his native blue hills stretching 
away in the distance. 

Soon the friendly tortoise brought him to the shore of 
the little blue bay of his own town, and, saying a long and 
low “ Sayonara,” he left Urashima and journeyed back 
to the Dragon King’s palace. 

When Urashima found himself alone, he looked around 
him, but everything seemed changed and altered. The 
people he met were entire strangers to him. Not a soul 
did he seem to know. 

Seeing a man staring at him, Urashima said : u Ex- 
cuse me, but I have been absent for the past few months 
from this, my native town, and, now I have returned, 
everything and everybody seem strange to me. My name 
is Urashima Taro. Will you please tell me the reason 
of this strangeness?” 

“ What ? You, Urashima Taro?” cried the man 
eagerly. “ Yes,” said the fisherman, “ I am Urashima 
Taro.” “ Ha, ha, ha ! this is a great joke. Come, peo- 
ple ! ” cried the man, “ here is this person who says he is 
Urashima Taro. Why, Urashima Taro lived in this vil- 
lage over four hundred years ago, as our old stories tell 
us; and now you say,” said the man, pointing to Urashima, 
“that you are Urashima Taro. Ha, ha, ha! A great 

69 


joke indeed ! ” — at which all the other people laughed 
too. 

Urashima got very angry indeed, and said, “ What non- 
sense you do speak! Why, I have only been away a few 
months, and certainly not four hundred years. I am, in- 
deed, Urashima Taro. Why do you mock and annoy me ? ” 
“ Well,” answered the man, “you may or may not he Uras- 
hima Taro; but all I know is that this Urashima lived 
four hundred years ago, as all the old stories tell us. They 
say that one day he suddenly disappeared, leaving behind 
him his aged parents, who died shortly afterwards, and 
that he was never heard of again.” 

Urashima was terribly puzzled. The few months he 
had spent at the Dragon King’s palace beneath the sea 
had not been months at all — they had been hundreds of 
years; and all that the man had told him was quite true. 
Urashima had been away for four hundred years. 

Walking back to the beach, Urashima’s heart was very 
sad and lonely, when suddenly he remembered the red 
lacquered box which the Princess had given him. “The 
Princess told me not to open it,” he said; “but surely 
this box contains something that will help me, so I will 
open it and look in ! ” So his heart consented to this act 
of disobedience; and, very carefully taking off the many 
silken cords, he lifted the red lacquered lid, when, behold ! 
a thin cloud of bluish smoke rose out of the box and 
floated off over the sea. 

Urashima, after watching the bluish cloud float away, 
suddenly felt his strength and vigour leaving him, and in 
a very short time he turned into an old and decrepit 
man. His face became lined with wrinkles and furrows 
of great age, his hair turned snowy white, and his whole 
body began to shiver a’nd shake. 

“ Alas ! Alas ! ” murmured Urashima, “ what have I 
done? I have been punished for my own disobedient and 
70 


foolish act, as I had promised the beautiful Princess never 
to open this box. Alas! Alas! Urashima has been 
punished! Sayonara, beautiful things of Nature! 
Sayonara ! I’m going, I’m going ! ” And waving his hands 
towards the silvery sea, poor Urashima fell down dead upon 
the beach. 


THE ASS THAT LAYS MONEY 

There was once a poor widow with an only son, and 
whose brother-in-law was a steward. One day she said 
to her child : “ Go to your uncle and ask him to give you 

something to keep us from starving.” The boy went to 
the farm and asked his uncle to help him a little. “We 
are dying of hunger, uncle. My mother earns a little by 
weaving, and I am too small to find anything. Be chari- 
table to us for we are your relatives.” The steward an- 
swered: “You should have come before so that I could 
have helped you the sooner. But now I will gire you 
something that will support you always, without need of 
anything more. I will give you this little ass that lays 
money. You have only to lay a cloth, and he will fill it 
for you with money. But take care! Mention it to no 
one, and do not leave the animal with any one.” 

The youth departed joyfully, and after travelling some 
distance, he stopped at an inn to sleep. He asked the land- 
lord for a room for himself and his ass. “ What ! ” said 
the landlord, “ you cannot have that ass in the room with 
you.” But the youth insisted, and finally the landlord 
consented. It seemed so strange to him, however, that 
after the boy and his beast were shut in the room, he 
looked through the keyhole, and saw that the wonderful 
ass had laid money in abundance. 

“ Bless me ! ” cried the host, “ this is a piece of good 

71 


fortune that I must not allow to escape me.” So he se- 
cured another ass of the same colour and size, and while 
the boy was asleep, he exchanged them. 

In the morning the boy paid his bill and departed, but 
on the way the ass laid no money. The child was per- 
plexed, and on examining the animal closely, saw that it 
was not his, and at once returned and made complaint to 
the innkeeper. 

The landlord cried out: "We are all honest people 
here, and steal nothing; go away, or you will get some- 
thing to remember.” 

The poor boy wept, and could do nothing but return 
to his uncle’s farm, and related what had befallen him. 
The uncle said, “this is most unfortunate, but, however, 
I have another present for you and your mother. Mention 
it to no one, and take good care of it. Here is a table- 
cloth, and whenever you say : ‘ tablecloth, make 

ready/ after having spread it out, you will see a fine 
repast at your pleasure.” 

The youth took the tablecloth, thanked his uncle, and 
departed; but very foolishly, he stopped at the same inn 
again. He said to the landlord, “ Give me a room and you 
need not prepare anything to eat; I have all I want with 
me.” 

When the lad was in his room the crafty innkeeper 
looked through the key-hole, and saw the tablecloth pre- 
paring supper. He exclaimed : “ What good luck for my 

inn! I must secure it.” So he looked for another table- 
cloth with similar embroidery and fringe, and while the 
boy was asleep, exchanged it for the magic one, so that 
in the morning the lad did not notice the difference. 
After walking some distance he became hungry, so he 
spread out the tablecloth and said: “tablecloth, 
make ready.” But it was not the same one, and made 
nothing ready for him. In despair he went back to the 

72 


innkeeper to complain, and the landlord would have 
thrashed him if he had not run away, and he ran until he 
reached his uncle’s. His uncle said, “ What is the mat- 
ter now?” and the boy replied that the innkeeper had 
changed the tablecloth. The uncle was on the point of 
giving him a good thrashing, but seeing how young he was, 
he restrained himself, and said: “I understand; but I 
will give you something with which you can get back every- 
thing from that thief of a landlord. Here it is! It is 
a stick. Hide it under your pillow, and if any one comes 
to rob you of it, say to it in a low voice : ‘ beat, beat ! ’ 

and it will continue to do so until you say ‘ stop/ ” 

The boy joyfully took the stick, which was a very hand- 
some one, with a gold handle. He thanked his uncle, and 
journeyed on until he came to the same inn. He said: 
" Landlord, I wish to lodge here to-night.” The land- 
lord at once drew his conclusions about the stick, which the 
boy carried openly in his hand, and at night when the lad 
appeared to be sound asleep, he felt softly under the pillow 
and drew out the stick. But the boy was ready, and said 
in a low voice : “ beat, beat, beat ! ” Suddenly blows 
were rained down without mercy; everything in the room 
was smashed to pieces, and the landlord beaten nearly to 
death. He screamed : “ Save me, save me, boy, or I shall 
be killed.” 

The boy answered : “ I will not deliver you unless you 
give me back my property, — the ass that lays gold, and the 
tablecloth that prepares dinner.” And to save his life, the 
landlord had to consent to the boy’s wishes. 

When he had his things back, the boy went home to his 
mother and told her all that had happened to him, and 
then said: "Now we need nothing more. I have an ass 
that lays money, a tablecloth that prepares food at will, 
and a stick to defend me from whoever assaults me.” 

The woman and her son, who had now risen from want 
73 


to riches, wished to invite their relatives to a banquet. 
On the appointed day the guests arrived, but at the din- 
ner hour there is no fire in the kitchen, and no provisions 
are in sight, and the visitors think a joke is being played 
upon them. But the lad, spreading the cloth on the table, 
said: “ tablecloth, tablecloth, prepare a grand 
banquet.?' And they all had a fine dinner, after which 
their friends departed, laden with presents of money. 


KING ROBERT OF SICILY 

King Robert of Sicily was a great and powerful ruler. 
His brothers were the Pope Urbane, and Yalmond, the 
Emperor of Germany. He was apparelled in magnificent 
attire, and was always attended by many courtiers and 
a great retinue of knights and squires. All these people 
so fawned upon him and flattered him, that he became too 
much filled with pride, and really thought he was the 
greatest king the world had seen. 

Now on St. John’s eve he attended service at church, 
and while thinking of his own greatness, he heard the 
priest chant the Magnificat. The words, “He hath put 
down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the 
humble and meek,” seemed to him to be a personal affront. 

“What meaneth the priest by these words?” asked he 
of a learned clerk. 

“Your Majesty, the meaning is that God can, in the 
twinkling of an eye, make those of high degree fall into 
low estate, and put those who are lowly into the highest 
places.” 

“ But there is no power,” said the king, “ that can pos- 
sibly bring to common degree one so highly placed and 
great as myself. All bow to my will.” 


And even as he spoke he became drowsy, and soon fell 
into a deep sleep. The service came to an end, and all 
but the king left the church. His people were not aware 
that he had not come with them, for an angel, wearing 
the King’s robes, had taken his place, and returned to the 
palace with them. 

When he awoke it was night; the church was empty 
and it was dark, save where a few lamps glimmered faintly 
before the image of some saint. He cried again and again 
for his serving men, but received no answer; he found 
his way to the door, but it was locked; he knocked and 
knocked, and at last the sexton opened it. Finding a man 
in the church, he angrily accused him of being a thief. 

“ I am the King and no thief ! ” said King Robert 
fiercely. He rushed by the sexton, and went through the 
courtyard of the palace, and up the stair leading to the 
banquet-room, thrusting roughly aside all who came in his 
way. The banquet-room was blazing with light, and on 
the throne sat another man, wearing his robes, his crown, 
and his ring. In features, form, and height he was King 
Robert’s self. 

He gazed at the Angel sitting in his seat In speechless 
amazement; the new King asked who he was and what he 
was doing there, to which he replied: “ I am the King, 
and you are an impostor who usurp my throne.” 

At these audacious words the angry guests sprang up 
and drew their swords. The Angel answered: “Not the 
King, but the King’s Jester thou shalt be, and henceforth 
wear the bells and scalloped cape, and for a companion 
thou shalt lead an ape; when my servants call, thou shalt 
wait upon them.” 

Then, amid the laughter of a group of pages, he was 
thrust from the hall and down the stairs, and the men-at- 
arms loudly mocked him, shouting “ Long live the King.” 

When he awoke the next morning he said to himself: 

75 


“ It was a dream ! ” But as he turned his head the straw 
rustled, and beside his l$wly bed were the cap and bells, 
and near by sat a wretched ape. 

And so the great King, for his pride, was put below the 
meanest scullion, and was forced to sleep in a stable. 
Dressed in the Jester’s garb, close shaven above the ears, 
mocked by all, he yielded sullenly to his fate. His only 
friend was the ape, and his food that which was left from 
the servants’ table. But though he was brought to such 
depths, he was still unsubdued, and when the Angel asked 
him if he were still the King, he haughtily replied : “ I 

am the King.” 

Under the wise and just rule of the Angel, King Rob- 
ert’s kingdom prospered, and there were peace and plenty 
in the land. 

At the end of three years there came an embassy from 
Yalmond, Emperor of Germany, saying that their brother, 
the Pope Urbane, had proposed that they visit him to- 
gether in his city of Rome on the next Holy Thursday. 
The Angel received the guests joyfully, showered them with 
presents, and departed with them for the city of Rome. 
In his train, clad in a fool’s motley, rode Robert of Sicily, 
and behind him, on his piebald steed, sat his grinning 
ape, making great merriment in the country towns through 
which they passed. 

They were welcomed by the Pope with great pomp and 
rejoicings. At their meeting King Robert burst through 
the crowd, rushed into their presence, and cried loudly: 
“ I am King Robert ! Do you not recognise me ? This 
man is not the King, but is an imposter in a king’s dis- 
guise. Do you not know me, your brother Robert?” 

But the Pope and the Emperor looked at the Angel and 
said : “ It is strange sport for you to have a madman as 

Jester at thy court.” And so the poor baffled King was 
hustled back among the populace in disgrace. 

76 


Holy Week was passed in solemn state, and the presence 
of the Angel seemed to fill the hearts of all with a new 
fervour. Even the Jester began to feel true penitence in 
his heart. He knelt humbly and prayed for guidance. He 
thought of how he had said in the church, “ that no 
power could possibly bring to common degree one so highly 
placed and great as himself,” and he thought of the state 
to which his pride had brought him. 

Their visit ended, and they journeyed homeward. 
Seated on the throne the Angel beckoned Kobert to him, 
and requested the rest to retire. Then the Angel said: 
“Art thou the King?” 

Crossing his hands on his breast, King Kobert answered : 
“Thou knowest that my sins are as scarlet; let me do 
penitence until my guilty soul be shriven ! ” 

The Angel smiled, and through the open windows they 
heard the monks chanting: “He hath put down the 
mighty from their seat, and hath exalted them of low de- 
gree ! ” 

Suddenly King Kobert raised his eyes, and lo! he was 
alone! His courtiers came and found him there, ap- 
parelled as of old in rich clothing. He was kneeling upon 
the floor, absorbed in prayer, asking help from Him who 
was mightier than kings. 


KING HENRY AND THE MILLER 

All day long King Henry rode with his princes and 
nobles, chasing the deer, till at last the dusk of evening 
forced them to turn homewards. Then, presently, the 
King found that, riding quickly, he had left all his lords 
behind. It was late at night, and he w r as lost in the wood. 
Wandering thus wearily alone, up and down, he happened 
77 


at last to meet with a rustic miller, and of him he asked 
the nearest way to Nottingham. 

“ Sir,” quoth the miller, “ I do not mean to jest, but 
I think what I think. You do not ride out of your way 
for nothing.” 

“Why, what do you think of me, passing judgment so 
hastily ? ” asked the King merrily. 

“ Good faith,” said the miller, “ I do not mean to flat- 
ter you. I guess you are but some gentleman thief. 
Stand back in the dark; do not alight, lest I instantly 
crack your knave’s crown.” 

“You greatly wrong me,” said the King. “I am a 
gentleman, and I lack lodging 1 ” 

“You have not a groat in your purse,” retorted the 
miller. “ All your inheritance is on your back.” 

“I have gold to pay for everything I order,” said the 
King. “ If it be forty pence, I can pay it all.” 

“If you are really a true man, I will lodge you for the 
night,” said the miller. 

“ I was ever that,” said the King. “ Here is my hand.” 

“Nay, soft,” quoth the miller; “you may be a sprite. 
I will know you better before we shake hands. With none 
but honest men will I shake hands.” 

So they went along to the miller’s house, where there 
were puddings bubbling and steaming on the fire. The 
miller went in first, and after him went the King. He 
had never been in so smoky a house. 

“ Now,” said the miller, “ let me see here what you are.” 

“ Look your fill ; do not spare,” answered the King. 

“ I like your countenance well ; you have an honest face. 
You shall have my son Richard’s bed to-night.” 

“ By my troth, it is a handsome youth,” said the miller’s 
wife. “ Yet it is best, husband, to deal warily. Are you no 
runaway, prithee, youth? Show me your passport, and 
all will be well.” 


78 


The King making a low bow, with his hat in his hand, 
answered at once he had no passport. He had never been 
a servitor. He was a poor courtier, who had ridden out 
of his way. For the kindness they offered him he would 
requite them. 

Then the miller’s wife whispered secretly to her hus- 
band: 

“ It seems this youth is of good kin, both by his apparel 
and his good manners. It would be very wrong to turn 
him out,” 

“Yes,” agreed the miller; “you may see he has some 
good in him by the way he speaks to his betters.” 

“Well, young man,” said the miller’s wife, “you are 
welcome here, and though I say it, you shall be well 
lodged. I will have some fresh straw laid on your bed, 
and good brown hempen sheets.” 

“Ay,” put in the miller, “and when that is done you 
shall be with no worse than our own son,” 

But before Richard, the son, would agree to this, he 
carefully inquired if the guest were 6Ure he was quite 
clean and well. For, he 6aid, unless this were so, he 
certainly should not sleep with him. This caused the 
King to laugh so heartily that the tears ran down his 
cheeks. 

Then they sat down to supper, with hot bag-puddings 
and good apple-pies, and nappy old ale in a brown bowl, 
and they were all very merry, and drank to each other’s 
health. 

“Wife, fetch me forth r Light-foot’ and we’ll taste a 
little of his sweetness,” said the miller presently. Where- 
upon the good dame quickly brought out a fine venison 
pasty. “ Eat, sir,” said the miller, “ but waste none of it. 
Here’s dainty < Light-foot ’ ! ” 

“Faith,” said King Henry, “I never ate before bo 
dainty a thing ! ” 


79 


“Why, I trow it is no dainty at all” said Richard, 
“ for we eat it every day.” 

“ In what place may it be bought like this ? ” asked the 
king. 

“We never pay a penny for it,” answered Richard. 
“ From merry Sherwood we fetch it home. Now and then 
we make bold with the king’s deer.” 

“ Then I think,” said the king, “ that this is venison ? ” 

“ Every fool may know that full well,” quoth Richard. 
“ We are never without two or three in this roof, very well 
fleshed and excellent fat. But, prithee thee, say nothing 
wherever you go. We would not, for twopence, that the 
king should know of it.” 

“ Doubt not my secrecy,” said King Henry. “ I prom- 
ise you the king shall never know of it from me.” 

So they feasted right merrily, and after drinking the 
. king’s health in a cup of lamb’s-wool (ale and roasted 
apples), they went to bed. 

The next morning King Henry’s nobles rode up and 
down, seeking their master in every town and village, and 
at last they came to the miller’s cot. At the very mo- 
ment they came up, the King was just mounting his horse, 
and down they went on their knees to salute him. 

The miller was quite terrified to discover who his guest 
really was ; his heart sank, and he began to quake and trem- 
ble, thinking he would certainly be hanged. The King 
seeing this drew out his sword and said nothing. Then 
the miller fell down, crying before them all, expecting 
the King to cut off his head. But King Henry, to requite 
his kindness, dubbed him a knight, and gave him a hand- 
some reward. 

When the King had left Nottingham, and was home 
again with his nobles at Westminster, in talking over all 
the sports and pastimes they had had in their late ex- 
80 


pedition, he protested that, of all his adventures, great 
and small, the sport he had had with the Miller of Mans- 
field had pleased him the best. 

“And now, my lords/’ quoth the King, “I am de- 
termined that at the next sumptuous feast of St. George, 
this old miller, our newly-made knight, with his son 
Richard, shall here be my guests. For at this festival it 
is my wish to talk with the jolly knight and the young 
squire.” 

The noble lords were much pleased with the King’s 
gracious words; a pursuivant, who had often been in 
those parts, was immediately despatched on the business. 
Entering the place where the miller and his family dwelt, 
he delivered his message in proper form. 

“God save your worship,” said the messenger, “and 
grant your lady her own heart’s desire ! And to your son 
Richard, that gentle and gallant young squire, good for- 
tune and happiness ! Our King greets you well, and thus 
he says: ‘You must come to the court on St. George’s 
Day.’ Therefore do not fail to be in place.” 

The miller was more troubled than pleased at this invi- 
tation. 

“ I think this is an odd jest,” he said uneasily. “ What 
should we do at couij;? Faith, I am half afraid.” 

“ I expect to be hanged, at least,” said Richard. 

“Kay, you mistake,” said the messenger. “The King 
is providing a great feast for you.” 

“ By my troth, messenger, thou hast contended my wor- 
ship right well,” said the miller in a lordly way. “ Hold, 
here are three farthings, to reward thy courtesy for the 
good tidings thou hast brought. Listen! Tell the King 
we will in everything wait on his mastership.” 

The pursuivant smiled at their simplicity, and mak- 
ing many bows accepted their reward. Then taking his 
leave with great humility, he went back to court, show- 
81 


ing the King merrily the knight’s liberal gift and 
bounty. 

No sooner had he gone than the miller began to fuss 
about in great excitement. 

“ Here, indeed, come expenses and charges ! ” he ex- 
claimed. “Now we must needs be fine, even if we spend 
all we have, for we are greatly in want of new garments. 
We must have good store of horses and serving-man, with 
saddles and bridles and twenty other things.” 

“ Tush, Sir J ohn,” said his wife, “ why should you fret ? 
You shall never be put to any charges for me, for I will 
turn and trim up my old russet gown, with everything 
else as fine as possible. And we will ride on our good 
mill-horses, with pillows and panniers.” 

In this stately fashion they rode to court. First of all 
went their handsome son, Kichard. For good luck he had 
set a cock’s feather in his cap, and thus they strutted 
down to the King’s hall, the merry old miller with his 
hand on his hip, and his wife mincing along with short 
steps beside him. 

The King and his nobles heard of their coming and went 
forward to meet them, and gave them a kind and hearty 
greeting. 

“Welcome, Sir Knight, with your fair lady!” quoth 
the King. “ Good Sir J ohn Cockle, welcome again ! ” 

And he took them both by the hand, while the miller’s 
wife dropped a milkmaid’s curtsey at every word. 

Then down sat all the folk at table and feasted right 
merrily. When they had all eaten, the King began to jest, 
and drank the guests’ healths in a bowl of wine. 

“Here’s to you both!” he cried, “and thank you 
heartily for the good cheer you gave me that night in the 
forest. That puts me in mind of something,” he added 
slyly. “ I would we had here some of your famous ‘ Light- 
foot,’ Sir John!” 


82 


“ Hullo,” said Eichard, “ I must say it is knavery to 
eat it, and then to betray it ! ” 

“ Why are you angry ? ” said King Henry merrily. “ In 
faith, I take it very unkind of you. I thought you would 
pledge me heartily in ale and wine.” 

“You will have to wait until I have dined,” returned 
Eichard bluntly. “You feed us with such small twad- 
dling dishes. A good black pudding is better than all of 
them.” 

“ Ay, marry,” said the King, “ that were a dainty dish 
if a man could but get one here to eat.” 

With that Dick straightway rose, and pulled one out 
of his pocket, which had got somewhat greasy and battered 
from the long journey. The King pretended to snatch 
it away, telling him it wa9 “ meat for his master,” and so 
with much good humour and merriment the meal went 
on. 

After dinner the ladies prepared to dance, and the King 
immediately made old Sir John Cockle and Eichard take 
their places, where they performed such funny antics that 
the nobles laughed till their sides ached. By and by the 
King asked Eichard if he would not like to marry, and if so, 
which one among the ladies pleased him the best. But 
Eichard answered him that “Jugg Grumball with the 
red head,” who lived near the mill, was the only one he 
loved, and she was the one he would marry. 

Finally, King Henry called the miller to him, and made 
him overseer of Sherwood Forest, and said he should 
have three hundred pounds yearly. 

“ Take heed, now, you steal no more of my deer,” ended 
the King. “And once a quarter let us see you here at 
court. And now, Sir John Cockle, I bid you adieu.” 


83 


SIR CLEGES AND THE CHERRIES 


In the time of King Uther, father of the great King 
Arthur, there lived a knight by the name of Sir Cleges; 
no doughtier man was there at the Round Table than he, 
and none of greater might or fairer looks. 

He was so gentle and open of hand that he gave freely 
to all wandering men who had fallen on evil days. The 
poor he succoured, and he did no man harm. Any man 
might come to eat at his board, where always plenteous 
meat and drink stood ready. 

This knight had a gentle wife, the best of her day. 
Dame Clarys was her name. She was ever of good cheer 
and merry, bountiful to the poor, true in all her dealing. 

Every year at Christmas Sir Cleges would hold a great 
feast, in honour of the season, providing as royally in all 
things as if he had been a king. Rich and poor in the 
country round came to his feast, and there were min- 
strelsy and mirth, and rich gifts of robes and jewels, 
horses, gold and silver, for the guests when they departed. 

For ten years did Sir Cleges hold his feast for charity’s 
sake. But at the last his goods began to fail, so that he 
had little wealth left. But he would not give up the feast 
for many years more, until at length all his money was 
spent, and he had no more, save barely enough for himself 
and Dame Clarys and their two children to live upon. 
His proud friends and servants began to fall away from 
him on every side; none would dwell with him in his 
poverty. 

It befell that one Christmas, when Sir Cleges was in this 
sorry case, the King, dwelling at Kardyf, made a feast. 
As it drew toward noon of the appointed day, Sir Cleges, 

84 


who formerly had sat at the King’s table, but now was for- 
gotten as if he had been dead, chanced to fall athinking 
on his lost fortunes; he remembered, how, with a free 
hand, he had wasted his rents and sold his manors, and 
great sorrow came upon him. He wrung his hands and 
wept, and all his pride was humbled. As he paced to and 
fro he heard the voices at the King’s feast; the sound of 
singing and carolling, and dancing, of pipes, trumpets, 
harps, psalteries, and lutes; and at that his heart was 
utterly cast down. 

“Lord Jesus, King of Heaven,” he prayed in his hu- 
mility, “ Thou hast made all things of nought : I thank 
thee for the sound of this mirth. Even as now the King 
does, so did I formerly feast slave and freeman alike at 
thy season. All who come to me in Thy name wanted 
for nothing, were it rich meats or goodly drinks, and never 
did I lend for usury.” 

As he stood mourning, his good wife came to him and 
caught him in her arms. “ My lord and true lover,” she 
said, “ I heard your words. It avails nought to make this 
lament; I pray you cease, and thank God for all that he 
hath sent. On this Christ’s day put aside your sorrow. 
Go we to our meal now, and make blithe and merry as 
best we may.” 

“Yes,” said Sir Cleges, and went in with her, and 
somewhat abated his grief. Yet his heart was still sore 
till Dame Clarys comforted him again. Then he began 
to wax blithe, and wiped away his tears. They washed 
and went to eat of such victuals as they had, and made 
merry together. They drove the day away as best they 
might, and played with their children, and after supper 
went to bed in due time. 

On the morrow they went to church, and there Sir Cleges 
kneeled down and prayed that no harm or strife might 
come upon them; and his wife prayed the like, and for Sir 

85 


Cleges also, that God would keep him safely. Then they 
went home comforted, and put away sad thoughts from 
them. 

But when Sir Cleges had come home, with his sorrow 
lessened, he sent his wife and children apart, and himself 
went into his garden, and there knelt down, and thanked 
God for the content that had come into his heart in- 
stead of sadness, and for the poverty that had been sent 
him. 

As he knelt thus and prayed under a tree, he felt a 
bough upon his head. He rose up, and laid his hand upon 
the bough, and behold, a marvel was before him. Green 
leaves he found upon the bough, and round cherries (for 
it was a cherry tree) in plenty. 

“ Dear God,” quoth he, “ what manner of berry may this 
be that grows at this time of the year? At this season 
I know not that any tree should bear fruit.” 

He thought to taste the fruit, and put it in his mouth, 
and eat plenteously. It f tasted like a cherry, the best that 
ever he had eaten. Thereat he cut off a little bough to 
show his wife, and took it into the house. “ Lo, dame ! ” 
said he, “here is a new thing. On a cherry tree in our 
garden I found this fruit. I trow this is a great marvel; 
I fear it is a token of more harm that is to come to us. 
Yet whether we have more or less let us always thank God : 
that is best in truth.” 

Then said Dame Clarys with gladness, “ Let us fill a 
basketful of the gift that God hath sent. To-morrow at 
daybreak you shall go to Kardyf and give the cherries to 
the King for a present. You may have from such a gift 
that we may fare well all this year. I tell you truth.” 

Sir Cleges agreed. “ To-morrow night to Kardyf I will 
go, according to your counsel.” 

On the morrow, when it was light, Dame Clarys made 
a basket ready. She called her eldest son. “ Take up this 
86 


fair basket,” said she, “and bear it to Kardyf with your 
father.” 

Sir Cleges took a staff: he had no horse (so 6ays the 
story) to ride, neither steed nor palfrey; only a staff was 
his horse, as is the lot of a man in poverty. Together 
he and his set out on foot on the road to Kardyf. 

In time they came to the Castle, where the King lay, 
about the hour when men sat down to feast ; and Sir Cleges 
thought to enter at the great gate. But he was clad in 
simple and poor raiment, and the porter barred the way. 

“ Churl,” said the man, “ withdraw, I bid you, right 
speedily, or I will break your head. Go stand with the 
beggars. If you come further in, I will smite you a buffet 
that you will rue.” 

“ Good sir,” said Sir Cleges, “ I pray you let me go in. 
I have a gift for the King from Him who made all things 
out of nought. Behold what I bring.” 

The porter went to the basket, and lifted the lid, and 
beheld the cherries. Well he knew that for such a gift 
he who brought it would have a great reward. 

“You come not into this place,” he said, “unless you 
promise me the third part of whatsoever the King grants 
you. Whether it be silver or gold.” 

Sir Cleges said, “I agree.” The porter gave him leave 
to enter, and in he went without more ado. 

But at the hall stood an usher with a staff, ready to 
smite him if he entered unbidden. 

“Go back, churl,” he cried. “Haste and tarry not. 
I will beat every bone in your body, without stint, if you 
press further.” 

“Good sir, for the love of Him who made man,” said 
Sir Cleges, “cease your angry mood. I have here a pres- 
ent from Him who made all things out of nought and 
died on the Cross. Last night in my garden it grew: 
behold whether it be true or false.” 

87 


The usher lifted the lid of the basket, and saw the cher- 
ries in very truth, and marvelled thereat. 

“ You come not in yet, churl,” he answered, “ until you 
grant me the third part of whatever you are given for 
these cherries.” 

Sir Cleges saw no other way, and granted what the 
usher asked. Then with sadder heart he led his son with 
the basket into the King’s hall. 

The King’s steward walked to and fro in the hall among 
the lords and knights. To Sir Cleges he came straight- 
way and said, “ Who made you so bold as to come here ? 
Get hence with your rags, and that speedily.” 

“ I have brought a present for the King from our Lord 
who bought us on the Cross,” answered Sir Cleges. 

The steward took the basket, and opened it. “ Never 
saw I such fruit at this season of the year,” he cried, 
“ No, not since I was born. You shall not come nigh the 
King unless you grant me this — the third part of whatso- 
ever the King gives you. This I will have, or no further 
do you go.” 

“My reward is all swallowed up by these three men,” 
thought Sir Cleges, “ and I shall have nothing. I shall 
get nought for all my labour in coming hither unless it 
be but a meal.” 

“ Have you no tongue, rogue ? ” cried the steward, since 
Sir Cleges did not answer. “ Speak to me, and delay no 
longer : grant what I ask, or I will rouse you with a staff, 
so that your ribs rattle, and you shall be cast out head- 
long.” 

Sir Cleges saw nothing for it but to agree, and he an- 
swered with a sigh, “Whatsoever the King grants me, 
you shall have a third part, be it less or more.” 

Up to the dais Sir Cleges went, and full soberly and 
with good intent knelt before the King. He uncovered 

88 


the basket and showed the cherries, and said, “ Our Sav- 
iour hath sent these to the King.” 

The King saw the fresh cherries. “This is a fair 
gift,” said he, and bade Sir Cleges sit down to feast, mean- 
ing to speak with him thereafter. The cherries he sent 
in part to a fair lady in Cornwall, and in part divided them 
among his guests there in the hall. 

When the feast was done, the King bade a squire, “ Call 
now before me the poor man that brought these cherries.” 

Sir Cleges came, and tarried not, and fell on his knees 
before the King and his nobles. “ Lord King, what is 
your will ? ” he asked. “ I am your man freeborn.” 

“ I thank you heartily,” said the King, “ for this your 
gift. You have honoured my feast and my guests, young 
and old, and you have honoured me also. Whatsoever 
you will have, I will grant you.” 

“ Gramercy, liege King,” said Sir Cleges ; “ this is good 
tidings to me. I tell you truly, to have land and other 
riches would be too much for me. But since I may choose 
for myself, I pray you grant me twelve strokes, to deal 
out as I please, and give to my adversary with my staff 
even in this hall.” 

Then answered Uther the King, “ I repent the boon that 
I have granted you. It were better that you had gold or 
reward: you have more need of it.” 

“ Sire, what I ask is your gift. I am fain to have it.” 

The King was sad and sorry at this reward, but never- 
theless he granted the reward. Sir Cleges took his staff 
and went into the hall among the lords and knights, with- 
out more words. He sought the proud steward, and found 
him speedily; and he gave him such a stroke that he fell 
down like a log before them all ; and then Sir Cleges dealt 
him other three strokes, so that he cried out, “Sir, for 
your courtesy, smite me no more.” 

89 


Out of the hall Sir Cleges went to pay his other debts, 
and no man hindered him. He went to the usher, and, 
“ Take your strokes,” he said when he met him ; and he 
dealt him that which would make him forbid no man the 
way to the King for many a day afterwards, so grimly 
did Sir Cleges greet him. “ You have there the third 
part of my reward,” quoth Sir Cleges. 

Sir Cleges went to the porter and gave him four strokes 
also. The first broke his shoulder blade and his arm, and 
he gave him three more for his full share, 60 that he would 
stop no more entering for many a day. “ You have the 
third part of my reward,” quoth Sir Cleges, “ according 
to our covenant.” 

The King was in his chamber filled with mirth and hu- 
mour. Thither came Sir Cleges to thank King Uther 
again; and it chanced that a harper sang to the King the 
former deeds of a certain knight, even of Sir Cleges him- 
self. 

“ Where is Sir Cleges?” asked the King. “You have 
wandered wide, Harper; tell me truth, if you can. Know 
you of the man ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered the harper. r< Aforetime I knew him. 
He was a true knight, and a comely. We minstrels miss 
him in sooth, since he went out of this land.” 

“I trow Sir Cleges is dead,” said the King. “I loved 
him well. Would that he were alive ! would that he were 
alive than any other five, for he was strong and valiant.” 

Sir Cleges kneeled before the king and thanked him 
for his boon. But the king asked him why he had paid 
the twelve strokes to the three servants, the steward, the 
usher, and the porter. 

“ Sire, I might not enter into your presence until I had 
granted each one of these three the third part of whoso- 
ever you granted me. With that I should have nought my- 
90 


self, wherefore I gave them twelve strokes; I thought that 
best.” 

The lords both old and young, and all that were with 
the King, made merry thereat, and the King could scarce 
withhold his laughter. 

“This is a noble wight,” quoth he, and sent for his 
steward. “ Have you your reward ? 99 he asked. 

But the steward only reviled Sir Cleges with a surly look. 

Then said the King to Sir Cleges, “ What is your name, 
good man? Tell me truly.” 

“I am Sir Cleges,” he answered. “I was your own 
knight, King Uther.” 

“Are you Sir Cleges who served me, and were so 
generous and free, and so stout in the fight? ” 

“Even so, lord King; so was I, until God visited me 
thus in poverty.” 

Thereupon the King bestowed upon Sir Cleges all that 
belonged of right to a knight, to befit his rank; he gave 
him also the castle of Kardyf, with many other gifts, that 
he might live with mirth and joy. And Sir Cleges rode 
home to Dame Clarys, his wife, and told her all that had 
been given him; and they lived thereafter in happiness 
to the end of their days. 


LIONBRUNO 

There was once a man who supported his wife and four 
children by following the vocation of fisherman, but for 
some time there had been a dearth of fish, so that he had 
not been able to catch anything at all, and little by little 
he had been obliged to sell all he possessed in order to live, 
and he was reduced almost to beggary. One day as he was 
91 


fishing with his usual ill-luck, a certain person (it was the 
Enemy) rose in the midst of the sea before his boat. 
He spoke to the poor fisherman about his bad luck, and 
then said : “ Listen, if you will agree to give me the son 

that may come to you in the next thirteen years, from now 
until that time I will cause you to catch so much fish 
that you will become a very rich man.” Then the fisher- 
man knew that this was the Evil One, but he said to him- 
self: “My wife and I are now old, and there will be 
no more children given to us.” Then turning to the 
Enemy he said : “ As you desire this contract, let us make 

it. But, remember, you must make me rich.” 

“Never fear,” replied the Enemy; “we will make the 
agreement and you leave the matter to me.” And so they 
settled everything at once, and the Enemy disappeared. 
The mariner began to draw in his nets, and they were 
full to overflowing pf all kinds of fish, and from that day 
he became richer and richer. 

Now some time after this a very handsome boy came to 
the fisherman and his wife, and they named him Lion- 
bruno. The Enemy suddenly appeared to the mariner. 
“ How can I serve you ? ” asked the poor man, trembling. 

“Remember the promise,” said the Enemy; “Lion- 
bruno is mine.” 

“But you must obey the contract, which is thirteen 
years,” replied the fisherman. 

“That is true,” said the Enemy; “farewell for thir- 
teen years.” Then he vanished. 

Meanwhile Lionbruno grew day by day, and became con- 
stantly handsomer, and his parents sent him to school. 
But time passes, and the end of the thirteen years draws 
near. On the day before the time agreed upon, the Enemy 
appeared. “ Mariner ! Mariner ! ” he called. 

“ Oh, poor me ! ” said the wretched man, who recognised 
him by his horrid voice. But what could he do? The 

92 


contract was clear, and the poor fisherman was obliged 
to promise to send the boy alone the next day to the sea. 

The following day the mother sent her son, when he 
returned from school, to carry his father’s lunch to him. 
But the unhappy father had gone far out to sea, so that 
the boy could not find him. The poor boy sat down on 
the beach, and to pass away the time, made little crosses 
out of pieces of wood, and stuck them in the sand around 
him, so that he was surrounded with them, and one he 
held in his hand. 

Then the Enemy came to take him, and said to him: 
"What are you doing, boy?” "I am waiting for my 
father,” he replied. 

The Enemy looked and saw that he could not take him, 
because he was seated in the midst of all those little 
crosses, and moreover had one in his hand. He regarded 
the boy with an ugly look, and cried: "Destroy those 
crosses at once ! ” "I will not,” said the boy. Then the 
Enemy threatened him and frightened him so that he 
destroyed all the crosses except the one he held in his 
hand. 

"Destroy that one quickly,” cried the Enemy, very 
much enraged. 

"No, No!” said the poor child, all in tears; "I will 
not destroy this cross.” 

The Enemy threatened him again and terrified him, 
but the child was firm and then a bright shining light 
appeared in the air. The fairy Colina, queen of the 
fairies, came down and took the boy by the hand, and 
delivered him from the Enemy, who shot fire from his 
eyes, nose, mouth, everywhere. But it was all to no pur- 
pose, for the fairy carried the boy away to her splendid 
palace. There Lionbruno grew up in the midst of the 
fairies, increasing in strength and beauty, and he lacked 
nothing. 


93 


Some years passed, and one day Lionbruno said to the 
fairy Colina: “I should like to see my father and 
mother, and hope you will not refuse me permission.” 

“No,” said the fairy, “I will not refuse you. I will 
give you twenty days to go and see your family, but do 
not stay away any longer. Remember that I have saved 
you from the Enemy, and have brought you up in the 
midst of wealth, which we are to enjoy together, for you 
are to be my husband.” 

The youth replied : “ I will do your will in all things.” 

Then the fairy said: “My Lionbruno, take this ruby; 
all that you ask of it you shall have.” He took the ruby, 
and all the fairies gave him in turn some token, which 
he took, and thanked them all. Then he embraced his 
bride and departed. He was splendidly dressed, and rode 
on a superb horse, with guards before him. He arrived 
at his town, and was surrounded by a crowd of curious 
people. He visited his parents, but did not say who he 
was, and asked them for a lodging that night. At mid- 
night, Lionbruno, by virtue of his ruby, changed their 
house into a magnificent palace, and the next day he 
changed himself into the thirteen-year-old Lionbruno 
and revealed himself to his parents, telling them how' the 
fairy Colina had saved him from the Enemy, brought 
him up, and made him her husband. “For this reason, 
dear father and mother, I cannot stay with you, but before 
I go, I will make you rich.” And with this they had to 
be content. 

One morning, Lionbruno, by an order to his ruby, 
brought together a great mass of riches, and then called 
to his parents and said: “I leave you this wealth and 
this palace. Now give me your blessing, .for I have to 
depart.” He received their blessing and left them. 

He arrived at Naples and lodged at the finest inn. 
Then he went out to walk and heard a proclamation which 
94 


declared: “ Whatever prince or knight, on horse, with 
spear in hand, shall pierce and carry away a gold star, 
shall marry the king’s daughter.” Lionbruno, more for 
braggadocio than for anything else, said to himself: “I 
will carry away the golden star ; ” and he commanded the 
ruby that it should be so. The princes and knights as- 
sembled to try their skill, but none was successful until 
Lionbruno came, and with a master-stroke carried off the 
star. Then he escaped to the inn, so that no one should 
see him. The king was ill-humoured at not being able 
to find the winner, and issued a proclamation again for 
the next day, when the same thing occurred. Lionbruno 
duped them a second time, and the king was very angry. 
He issued a third proclamation, and posted a large num- 
ber of soldiers at all places where one could escape. As 
usual Lionbruno carried off the prize, but the soldiers, 
quicker than he, seized him, and carried him to the king, 
who asked him why, not satisfied with duping him twice, 
he had wished to do it a third time; and that, having 
won the star, he must become his daughter’s husband. 
And Lionbruno, against his will, was obliged to promise 
to marry the princess. There was a magnificent feast, and 
Lionbruno before marrying the princess said to the king: 
“Your Majesty, it is true that your daughter is very 
beautiful, but I had a bride by whose side she could not 
stand for beauty or grace.” 

At this affront the poor princess became as red as fire, 
and the king said: “If this is so, we wish to see your 
wife.” 

Poor Lionbruno was in a tight place, and had recourse 
to the ruby. “ Ruby mine, make fairy Colina come here.” 
But this time he was mistaken. The ruby could not com- 
pel the fairy to come, for it was she who had given it its 
magic power. But the summons reached the fairy, who 
said she would treat him as he deserved, and so made the 
95 


lowest of her servants appear suddenly in the great hall 
of the king, where all the guests were assembled for the 
wedding. As soon as they saw her they all said, “ How 
beautiful she is! Is this then your first bride?” 

“ No,” answered Lionbruno, “ this is the lowest servant 
of my first bride.” 

“ Gracious ! ” exclaimed the noblemen ; “ If this is the 
lowest of the servants and is so beautiful, what must the 
mistress be like ! ” Then said the king, “ If this is not 
your first bride, I wish you to make her come herself.” 

Poor Lionbruno! He was obliged to have recourse to 
the ring again. But this time also the fairy did not go, 
but sent her second servant. Scarcely had they seen her 
than they all said : “ This one is really beautiful ! This 

must be your first bride, Lionbruno.” 

“No, no!” said he; “my first bride is a marvel of 
beauty. This is only her second servant.” 

Then said the king threateningly: “Lionbruno, let 
us put an end to this; I command you to cause your first 
wife to come here instantly.” 

The matter was growing serious. Poor Lionbruno had 
recourse a third time to the ruby, and said : “ Ruby mine, 

if you really wish to help me, cause the fairy Colina her- 
self to come here.” The summons reached her at once, 
and this time she went. When the great lords and the 
king and his daughter saw that marvel of beauty, they 
became as so many statues. But the fairy Colina ap- 
proached Lionbruno, pretended to take his hand, and 
drew off his ring, saying : “ Traitor ! you cannot find me 

until you have worn out seven pairs of iron shoes.” Then 
she vanished. The king in fury said to Lionbruno : “ I 

understand. The power of carrying off the star was not 
yours, but your ruby’s. Leave my palace ! ” He had 
him well beaten and sent him away. 

And so poor Lionbruno was left without the fairy Colina 
96 


or the king’s daughter, and departed sorrowfully from the 
city. He went to a blacksmith’s and ordered seven pairs 
of iron shoes, put on one pair, placed the rest in his 
travelling sack, and set out. After walking until night, 
he arrived at a forest. All at once three robbers came 
there; they asked Lionbruno how he happened to be there, 
and he told them he was a poor pilgrim who had stopped 
to rest. He asked them who they were, and was told 
that they were travellers. They remained together for 
the night, and in the morning Lionbruno took leave of 
them and departed. He had just started when he heard 
them quarrelling. How these Tobbers had stolen three 
objects of considerable value, and were disputing as to 
their division. One of them said: “Let us call back 
the pilgrim, and have him decide.” They called him and 
said that they had three objects of great value to divide, 
and wished him to be the judge, and give one to each of 
them. There were a pair of boots, a purse, and a cloak. 
The boots had the virtue of enabling he who wore them 
to outrun the wind. The purse on being requested to 
open and shut gave at once a hundred ducats. And he 
who wore the cloak and buttoned it up could see and yet 
be himself unseen. Lionbruno said that to act as judge, 
he must first carefully examine each object, and so he put 
on the boots, tried to run, and went marvellously. Then 
he took the purse and said : “ Open and shut,” and at 

once there came forth a hundred silver ducats. At last 
he put on the coat and began to button it up. While he 
was doing so he asked the robbers if they 6aw him. They 
answered “Yes.” He kept on buttoning it and asked 
again if they saw him, and they said “ Yes.” At last he 
reached the final button. “ How do you see me ? ” he in- 
quired. The robbers replied, “Ho.” Lionbruno said: 
“If you don’t see me now, you never will see me again.” 
He threw aside the iron shoes, and went away, faster than 
97 


the wind. The robbers were in a terrible rage when they 
saw how they had been duped, and the one who had sug- 
gested calling Lionbruno back was soundly thrashed by 
the others. 

Lionbruno continued on his way, and after a long 
journey, he arrived in the midst of a forest. He saw at a 
distance a slight smoke, and among frightful rocks, a little 
old hovel surrounded by dense wild shrubs, with a little 
door entirely covered with ivy, so that it could scarcely be 
seen. Approaching the door, he knocked softly. “Who 
is knocking?” asked an old woman’s voice. “I am a 
poor Christian,” replied Lionbruno; “night has overtaken 
me, and I am seeking a lodging.” The door opened and 
Lionbruno entered. 

“ Oh, poor youth ! How have you been tempted to 
come and ruin yourself in this remote place?” demanded 
in great wonder the old woman who was within, and who 
was Borea, the mother of the winds. 

“ Oh, dear little lady,” replied Lionbruno, “ I am lost 
in this great forest, for I have been travelling a long time 
in search of my dear bride, the fairy Colina, and I have 
not yet been able to find any trace of her.” 

“ My son,” said she, “ you have made a great mistake ! 
What shall we do now that my sons are coming home? 
Perhaps they will want to eat you.” 

“ Oh, wretched me ! ” cried Lionbruno, trembling ; 
“ who are these sons of yours who devour Christians ? ” 

“ My son,” replied Borea, “ you do not know where you 
are. This house in the midst of these precipices is the 
house of the winds, and I am Borea, the mother of all the 
winds.” 

“ Oh, my dear old lady,” said Lionbruno, “ will you 
help me, and save me from your sons?” 

She finally concealed him in a chest, telling him not to 
make the slightest noise when her sons returned. 

98 


Soon a loud noise was heard at a distance: it was the 
winds returning home. The nearer they approached the 
louder the noise grew, and a sound of branches and trees 
broken off was heard. At last the winds arrived, pushed 
open the door, and entered. “ Good evening, mother ! ” 
they said; and “Welcome, my sons!” replied she, smil- 
ing. And so one after the other all the winds entered, 
and the last to enter was Sirocco, for you must know that 
Sirocco is the youngest of Borea’s sons. Scarcely had 
they entered when they began to say: “What smell of 
human flesh is here?” 

“How foolish you are,” said their mother; “who do 
you think would risk his life by coming here ? ” 

But they would not be convinced, especially that ob- 
stinate Sirocco. Lionbruno thought his end was near, but 
Borea finally satisfied her sons, and made them happy by 
placing a fine meal before them. 

The next day Borea said : “ My sons, when you came 

home last night, you said you smelled human flesh. Tell 
me, should you really see a man now, what would you do 
to him?” 

“ We would do nothing to him now,” they replied, “ but 
last night we would have torn him in pieces.” 

Having again given their promise that they would 
now do no harm to a man if he were there, Borea opened 
the chest and made Lionbruno come forth. If you had 
heard the winds then ! They puffed and blew around 
him, and asked him first of all how he had come to that 
place, where no living soul had ever penetrated. 

Lionbruno said: “I would that my journey ended 
here! I must go to the palace of the Fairy Colina; per- 
haps you can tell me where it is?” 

Then Borea asked her sons one by one, and each re- 
plied that he knew nothing about it, until she questioned 
Sirocco, and he said, “Should I not know something 
99 


about it? I am not like my brothers who can never find 
a hiding-place. The fairy Colina is love-sick. She says 
her lover has betrayed her, and continually weeps, and 
is so reduced by grief that she can live but little longer. 
And I am ashamed of myself, for I have seen her in this 
condition, and have amused myself by making a noise 
about her palace, and more than once I burst open win- 
dows and turned things upside down, even the bed she 
was resting on.” 

“ Oh, my dear Sirocco, you must aid me ! ” 6aid Lion- 
bruno. “ Since you have given me news of her, you must 
also do me the favour to show me the way to my bride’s 
palace. I, my dear Sirocco, am the betrothed of the fairy 
Colina, and it is not true that I have betrayed her; on the 
contrary, if I do not find her, I shall die of grief.” 

“My son,” said Sirocco, “listen; for my part I would 
take you there with all my heart, but I should have to 
carry you around my neck, and the trouble is that I am 
wind and air, and you would fall off. Were you like me, 
it would be very simple.” 

“Don’t worry about that,” said Lionbruno, “show me 
the way, and I will not lag behind.” 

“ He is crazy,” said Sirocco to himself ; then he said to 
Lionbruno: “Very well, since you feel so strong, to- 
morrow we will make the trial. Meanwhile let us go to 
bed, for it is late, and to-morrow, God willing, we will 
rise early I ” And all went to sleep. 

In the morning early Sirocco arose and cried : “ Lion- 

bruno ! Lionbruno ! get up quickly ! ” And Lionbruno 
put on his boots in a hurry, seized his purse, fixed his 
cloak carefully, and left the house with Sirocco. 
“ There,” said Sirocco, “ is the way we must take. Be 
careful! Don’t let me out of your sight, and leave the 
rest to me. If a few hours after sunset to-night I 
100 


don’t make you find your beauty, you may call me an 
ass.” 

They started, and ran like the wind. Every little while 
Sirocco called out : “ Lionbruno ! ” and he, who was 

ahead, answered at once : “ Oh! don’t think I am going 

to lag behind ! ” About two hours after sunset they 
reached the palace of the fairy Colina, and Sirocco said, 
“Here is your fair one’s balcony! See how I am going 
to blow open the window for you. As 60 on as it is open, 
you give a spring and jump in.” 

And so he did. Before the servants could run and shut 
the window, Lionbruno was already under the fairy 
Colina’s bed. Afterwards one of the maids said to the 
fairy: “My mistress, how do you feel now? Do you 
not feel a little better ? ” 

“ Better ? I am half dead,” said the fairy. “ That 
wind has nearly killed me.” 

“ Take a little coffee, or chocolate, or broth ; ” said the 
maid. “If you do not, you will not rest to-night, you 
have eaten nothing for three or four days. Beally you 
must take something.” And the servant insisted so, that 
to get rid of her the fairy said: “ Well, bring something; 
if I want it, I will take it.” 

The servant brought a little coffee, and left it beside the 
bed, and Lionbruno, in his invisible cloak, drank the 
coffee himself. The servant, believing her mistress had 
drunk it, brought the chocolate too, and Lionbruno drank 
that as before. Then the servant brought the fairy some 
broth and a pigeon. “Mistress,” said she, “since you 
have taken the coffee and chocolate, take this broth and 
a bit of pigeon, so that you may gain strength and be bet- 
ter to-morrow.” 

On hearing this, the mistress thought that the servant 
was making fun of her. “ Oh, stupid blockhead ! ” she 
101 


said; what are you saying? I have touched nothing. 
The cups are still here with the coffee and chocolate.” 

The servant thought the fairy was out of her mind. 
Then Lionbruno took off his cloak, and said : “ My bride, 

do you not know me ? ” 

“ Lionbruno mine, is it indeed you?” And she rose 
from the bed and embraced him. “Then it is not true 
that you have forgotten me. Now you see that I am cured 
only because I have seen you.” 

Then they summoned the servants and made a great 
festival. The next day they were married with great 
splendour, and in the evening they gave a grand ball and 
a great banquet, and every one was happy. 


THE THANKFUL DEAD 

The son of a retired merchant, having passed through 
school, was informed by his father that it was time he 
made a start in life; that he would receive a vessel and 
six thousand scudi, with which he might voyage, and buy 
and sell merchandise. Having received these, together 
with his father’s blessing, he started on his travels. 

On his journey, without having yet purchased anything, 
he arrived at a town, and on the sea-shore he saw a bier 
and noticed that many of those who passed by bestowed 
alms on the corpse. The traveller asked why the body 
was kept there instead of being lowered into a grave, and 
was told that the dead man owed many debts, and it was 
their custom to bury no one until his debts were paid, 
therefore this man would have to remain unburied until 
enough money had been received through charity to pay 
the amount he had owed. 

“ What is the use of keeping him here ? ” said the young 
102 


man. “Let it be known that all those to whom he owed 
money may come to me and be paid.” 

The proclamation was issued, and he paid the debts, 
and then had not a penny left of the capital which his 
father had given him. So he returned home. 

“What news, son?” asked his father. “Why do you 
return so soon ? ” 

He replied: “While crossing the sea, we encountered 
pirates; they have robbed me of all my capital.” 

His father said: “Never mind, son; be thankful your 
life is spared. I will give you more money, but you must 
not go in that direction again.” He then gave him an- 
other six thousand scudi. 

The son thanked his father, said he would change his 
course, and again began his journey. 

When well out to sea, he observed a Turkish vessel, 
and said to himself: “Now it is better for me to sum- 
mon them on board than for them to summon us.” They 
came on board, and he said to them: “Whence do you 
come ? ” They answered : “We come from the Levant.” 
He asked them what cargo they had, and they replied: 
“ Nothing but a very beautiful girl whom we have stolen 
from the Sultan, and we wish to sell her.” 

He desired to see this girl, and when they brought her, 
he was so much struck with her beauty that he paid the 
six thousand scudi they demanded for her, and carried 
her away in his ship. He had her become a Christian, 
and they were married. 

He returned to his father’s house. His father wel- 
comed him, and asked for an account of his trading. 
When he learned that his son had brought a wife, the 
daughter of the Sultan of Turkey, he was very angry, 
and drove them both from his house. 

The poor unfortunates did not know where to find 
shelter. They went away, and hired a poor room at a 
103 


short distance from their town. There they talked over 
what they should do. The young man had learned no 
business or profession, but his wife said she could paint 
beautiful pictures, which he could sell, but that he must 
tell no one that she painted them. 

In the meantime the Sultan had sent out many ships 
in search of his daughter, and one of these arrived at the 
town where they were, and many of the sailors went on 
shore. 

The husband said to his wife: "Make many pictures, 
for to-day we shall sell them ! ” She made them, and 
told him to sell them for twenty scudi each. He took 
them to the public square where many of the Turkish 
sailors came. These men at once recognised the work 
of the Sultan’s daughter, for she had been renowned for 
her beautiful paintings, so they bought all he had, and 
said they wanted more. He told them to come to his 
house, and his wife would do as many as they wished. 

They accompanied him there, and when they saw the 
Sultan’s daughter, they seized and bound her, and carried 
her away to Turkey. 

The husband, then, was indeed unhappy. He had lost 
his wife; he was alone, and knew no trade. What could 
he do? 

Every day he walked along the beach seeking a ship 
that would take him on board, but he found none. One 
day he saw an old man fishing in a little boat, and he 
cried : " Old man, how much better off you are than 
I!” 

The old man asked: "Why, my son?” 

The young man related his circumstances, and asked 
if he might get in the boat and fish with him. 

" Yes, my son,” said he ; " if you wish to come with 
me in this boat, I will take you. I will sell the fish we 
catch, and we shall live together.” 

104 


They ate, and went to sleep, and during the night a 
severe storm arose, and they were carried by it to the 
coast of Turkey. The Turks, seeing the boat, went on 
board, seized them, and sold them as slaves to the Sultan, 
who put them both to work in the garden, the old man 
as gardener, while the young man had to carry flowers 
to the Sultan’s daughter, who with her maids was shut 
up in a high tower. 

They were very comfortable there, and made friends 
with the other gardeners. They were both fond of mu- 
sic, and the old man made several instruments — guitars, 
flutes, violins, and piccolos — which the young man played 
beautifully when he had time. He also sang well, and 
his playing and singing attracted the attention of the 
Sultan’s daughter. 

One day his wife, who was in the tower, heard him 
singing a song of which her husband had been very fond, 
so she went out on the balcony and saw him in the gar- 
den. Then she said to one of those who filled the basket 
with flowers: "Put the young man who sings into the 
basket, and cover him with flowers.” This was done, 
and the maids drew him up. He came out of the basket, 
and beheld his wife. They were both overjoyed, and im- 
mediately laid plans for their escape. 

The Princess told her damsels that she wished to de- 
part without any one knowing it, so they caused a ship 
to be loaded with gold and jewels. When all was ready, 
they let down the young man first, then his wife, and 
finally the damsels, and they embarked and departed. 

But when they were out at sea, the husband remem- 
bered the old man who had been left behind, and said 
to his wife: "Even though I lose my life, I must turn 
back for my friend.” So they put back and saw the old 
man, whom they took with them, and went out to sea 
again. 


105 


When they were near home, the old man said. “Now, 
my son, it were fitting for us to settle our accounts.” 

The young man replied, “ Good old man, all the wealth 
that I have belongs half to you and half to me.” 

“Your wife, too, does she belong half to me?” said the 
old man. 

The young man answered: “I will give you three 
quarters, and take one quarter only for myself, hut let 
me have my wife. Do you want me to divide her in 
two ? ” 

Then the old man said : “ I am the soul of him whose 

debts you paid, and whom you had buried, and all this 
good fortune has come to you because you did that good 
action, and also converted your wife.” Then he gave him 
his blessing, and disappeared. 

When they reached his city, the young man told his 
father all that had happened to them. They were re- 
ceived with open arms, and lived together very happily. 


“ I WON’T ” 

“ Don’t care ” — so they say — fell into a goosepond ; and 
“I won’t” is apt to come to no better end. At least, my 
grandmother tells me that was how the miller had to 
quit his native town, and leave the tip of his nose be- 
hind him. 

It all came of his being allowed to say “ I won’t ” when 
he was quite a little boy. His mother thought he looked 
pretty when he was pouting, and that wilfulness gave 
him an air which distinguished him from other people’s 
children. And when she found out that his lower lip 
was becoming so big that it spoiled his beauty, and that 
106 


his wilfulness gained his way twice and stood in his way 
eight times out of ten, it was too late to alter him. 

Then she said, “ Dearest Abinadab, do be more oblig- 
ing!" 

And he replied (as she had taught him), "I won’t.” 

He always took what he could get, and would neither 
give nor give up to other people. This, he thought was the 
way to get more out of life than one’s neighbours. 

Amongst other things, he made a point of taking the 
middle of the footpath. 

“Will you allow me to pass you, sir?" — “I’m in a 
hurry," said a voice behind him one day. 

“I won’t," said Abinadab: on which a poor washer- 
woman, with her basket, scrambled down into the road, 
and Abinadab chuckled. 

Next day he was walking as before. 

“Will you allow me to pass you, sir? — I am in a 
hurry," said a voice behind him. 

“I won’t," said Abinadab. On which he was knocked 
into the ditch; and the Baron walked on, and left him 
to get out of the mud on which ever side he liked. 

He quarrelled with his friends till he had none left, 
and he quarrelled with the tradesmen of the town till there 
was 6nly one who would serve him, and this man offended 
him at last. 

“I’ll show you who’s master!" said the miller. “I 
won’t pay a penny of your bill — not a penny." 

“ Sir,’’ said the tradesman, “ my giving you offence now 
is no just reason why you should refuse to pay for what 
you have had and been satisfied with. I must beg you 
to pay me at once." 

“ I won’t," said the miller, “ and what I say I mean. 
I won’t; I tell you, I won’t." 

So the tradesman summoned him before the Justice, 

107 


and the Justice condemned him to pay the bill and the 
costs of the suit. 

“ I won’t,” said the miller. 

So they put him in prison, and in prison he would have 
remained if his mother had not paid the money to ob- 
tain his release. By and by she died, and left him her 
blessing and some very good advice, which (as is some- 
times the case with bequests) would have been more use- 
ful if it had come earlier. 

The miller’s mother had taken a great deal of trouble 
off his hands which now fell into them. She took in all 
the small bags of grist which the country-folks brought 
in to be ground, and kept account of them, and spoke 
civilly to the customers, big and little. But these small 
matters irritated the miller. 

“ I may be the slave of all the old women in the coun- 
try side;” said he, “but I won’t — they shall see that I 
won’t.” 

So he put up a notice to say that he would only re- 
ceive grist at a certain hour on certain days. Now, but 
a third of the old women could read the notice, and they 
did not attend to it. People came as before; but the 
miller locked the door of the mill and sat in the count- 
ing-house and chuckled. 

“My good friend,” said his neighbours, “you can’t 
do business in this way. If a man lives by trade, he must 
serve his customers. And a miller must take in grist 
when it comes to the mill.” 

“Others may if they please,” said the miller; “but I 
won’t. When I make a rule, I stick to it.” 

“Take advice, man, or you’ll be ruined,” said his 
friends. 

“ I won’t,” said the miller. 

In a few weeks all the country-folk turned their 
donkeys’ heads towards the windmill on the heath. It was 
108 


a little farther to go, but the windmiller took custom 
when it came to him, gave honest measure, and added 
civil words gratis. 

The other miller was ruined. 

“ All you can do now is to leave the mill while you can 
pay the rent, and try another trade,” said his friends. 

"I won’t,” said the miller. “ Shall I be turned out 
of the house where I was born, because the country-folk 
are fools?” 

However, he could not pay the rent, and the landlord 
found another tenant. 

“You must quit,” said he to the miller. 

“That I won’t,” said the miller, “not for fifty new 
tenants.” 

So the landlord sent for the constables, and he was 
carried out, which is not a dignified way of changing 
one’s residence. But then it is not easy to be obstinate 
and dignified at the same time. 

His wrath against the landlord knew no bounds. 

“Was thtre ever such a brute?” he cried. “Would 
any man of spirit hold his home at the whim of a land- 
lord? I’ll never rent another house as long as I live.” 

“But you must live somewhere,” 6aid his friends. 

“I won’t,” said the miller. 

He was no longer a young man, and the new tenant 
pitied him. 

“The poor fellow is out of his senses,” he said. And 
he let him sleep in one of his barns. One of the mill 
cats found out there was a new warm bed in this barn, 
and she came and lived there too, and kept away the 
mice. 

One night, however, Mrs. Pussy disturbed the miller’s 
rest. She was in and out of the window constantly, and 
meowed horribly into the bargain. 

“It seems a man can’t even sleep in peace,” said the 
109 


miller. "If this happens again, you’ll go into the mill- 
race to sing to the fishes.” 

The next night the cat was still on the alert, and the 
following morning the miller tied a stone round her neck, 
and threw her into the water. 

“ Oh, spare the poor thing, there’s a good soul,” said a 
bystander. 

“ I won’t,” said the miller. " I told her what would 
happen.” 

When his back was turned, however, the bystander got 
Pussy out, and took her home with him. 

Now the cat was away, the mice could play; and they 
played hide-and-seek over the miller’s nightcap. 

It had come to such a pass that there was no rest to 
he had. 

" I won’t go to bed, I declare I won’t,” said the miller. 
So he sat up all night in an armchair, and threw every- 
thing he could lay hands on at the corners where he 
heard the mice scuffling, till the place was topsy-turvy. 

Towards morning he lit a candle and dressed himself. 
He was in a terrible humour, and when he began to 
shave, his hand shook and he cut himself. The draughts 
made the flame of the candle unsteady too, and the 
shadow of the miller’s nose (which was a large one) fell 
in uncertain shapes upon his cheeks, and interfered with 
the progress of the razor. At first he thought he would 
wait till daylight. Then his temper got the better of him. 

"I won’t,” he said, "I won’t; why should I?” 

So he began again. He held on by his nose to steady 
his cheeks, and gave it such a spiteful pinch that the 
tears came into his eyes. 

“ Matters have come to a pretty pass, when a man’s own 
nose is to stand in his light,” said he. 

By and by a gust of wind came through the window. 
Up flared the candle, and the shadow of the miller’s nose 

110 


danced half over his face, and the razor gashed his 
chin. 

Transported with fury, he struck at it before he could 
think what he was doing. The razor was very sharp, and 
the tip of the miller’s nose came off as clean as his 
whiskers. 

When daylight came, and he saw himself in the glass, 
he resolved to leave the place. 

“I won’t stay here to be a laughing-stock,” said he. 

As he trudged out on to the highway, with his bundle 
on his back, the Baron met him and pitied him. He dis- 
mounted from his horse, and leading it up to the miller, 
he said, — 

“Friend, you are elderly to be going far afoot, I will 
lend you my mare to take you to your destination. When 
you are there, knot the reins and throw them on her 
shoulder, saying, c Home ! ’ She will then return to me. 
But mark one thing, — she is not used to whip or spur. 
Humour her, and she will carry you safely and well.” 

The miller mounted willingly enough, and set forward. 
At first the mare was a little restive. The miller had no 
spurs on, but in spite of the Baron’s warning, he kicked 
her with his heels. On this, she danced till the miller’s 
hat and bundle flew right and left, and he was very near 
to following them. 

“Ah, you vixen!” he cried, “you think I’ll humour 
you as the Baron does. But I won’t — no, you shall see 
that I won’t ! ” And gripping his walking-stick firmly 
in his hand, he belaboured the Baron’s mare as if it had 
been a donkey. 

On which she sent the miller clean over her head, and 
cantered back to the castle; and wherever it was that he 
went to, he had to walk. 

He never returned to his native village, and everybody 
was glad to be rid of him. One must bear and forbear 

111 


with his neighbours, if he hopes to be regretted when he 
departs. 

But my grandmother says that long after the mill had 
fallen into ruin, the story was told as a warning to wilful 
children of the miller who cut off his nose to spite his 
own face. 


THE FIDDLER IN THE FAIRY RING 

Generations ago, there once lived a farmer’s son, who 
had no great harm in him, and no great good either. He 
always meant well, but he had a poor spirit, and was too 
fond of idle company. 

One day his father sent him to market with some sheep 
for sale, and when business was over for the day, the rest 
of the country folk made ready to go home, and more 
than one of them offered the lad a lift in his cart. 

“ Thank you kindly, all the same,” said he, “but I am 
going back across the downs with Limping Tom.” 

Then out spoke a steady old farmer and bade the lad 
go home with the rest, and by the main road. For Limp- 
ing Tom was an idle, graceless kind of fellow, who fiddled 
for his livelihood, but what else he did to earn the money 
he squandered, no one knew. And as to the sheep path 
over the downs, it stands to reason that the highway is 
better travelling after sunset, for the other is no such 
very short cut; and has a big fairy ring so near it, that 
a butter woman might brush it with the edge of her mar- 
ket cloak, as she turned the brow of the hill. 

But the farmer’s son would go his own way, and that 
was with Limping Tom, and across the downs. 

So they started, and the fiddler had the fiddle in his 
hands, and a bundle of marketings under his arm, and 
112 


he sang snatches of strange songs, the like of which the 
lad had never heard before. And the moon drew ont 
their shadows over the short grass till they were as long 
as the great stones of Stonehenge. 

At last they turned the hill, and the fairy ring looked 
dark under the moon, and the farmer’s son blessed him- 
self that they were passing it so quietly, when Limping 
Tom suddenly pulled his cloak from his back and hand- 
ing it to his companion, cried, “ Hold this for a moment, 
will you? I’m wanted. They’re calling for me.” 

“I hear nothing,” said the farmer’s son. But before 
he had got the words out of his mouth, the fiddler had 
completely disappeared. He shouted aloud, but in vain, 
and had begun to think of proceeding on his way, when 
the fiddler’s voice cried, “ Catch ! ” and there came fly- 
ing at him from the direction of the fairy ring, the bun- 
dle of marketings which the fiddler had been carrying. 

“ It’s in my way,” he then heard the fiddler cry. “ Ah, 
this is dancing ! Come in, my lad, come in ! ” 

But the farmer’s son was not totally without prudence, 
and he took good care to keep at a safe distance from the 
fairy ring. 

“ Come back, Tom ! Come back ! ” he shouted, and, re- 
ceiving no answer, he adjured his friends to break the 
bonds that withheld him, and return to the right way, as 
wisely as one man can counsel another. 

After talking for some time to no purpose, he again 
heard his friend’s voice, crying, “ Take care of it for me ! 
The money dances out of my pocket.” And therewith 
the fiddler’s purse was hurled to his feet, where it fell 
with a heavy clinking of gold within. 

He picked it up, and renewed his warnings and en- 
treaties, but in vain; and, after waiting for a long time, 
he made the best of his way home alone, hoping that the 
fiddler would follow, and come to reclaim his property. 

113 


The fiddler never came. And when at last there was a 
fuss about his disappearance, the farmer’s son, who had 
but a poor spirit, began to be afraid to tell the truth of 
the matter. “Who knows but they may accuse me of 
theft?” said he. So he hid the cloak, and the bundle, 
and the money-bag in the garden. 

But when three months passed, and still the fiddler did 
not return, it was whispered that the farmer’s son was 
his last companion; and the place was searched, and they 
found the cloak, and the bundle, and the money-bag, and 
the lad was taken to prison. 

Now, when it was too late, he plucked up spirit, and 
told the truth; but no one believed him, and it was said 
that he had murdered the fiddler for the sake of his 
money and goods. And he was taken before the judge, 
found guilty, and sentenced to death. 

Fortunately, his mother was a wise woman. And when 
she heard that he was condemned, she Baid, “ Only fol- 
low my directions, and we may save you yet, for I guess 
how it is.” 

So she went to the judge, and begged for her son three 
favours before his death. 

“I will grant them,” said the judge, “if you do not 
ask for his life.” 

“The first,” said the old woman, “is, that he may 
choose the place where the gallows shall be erected; the 
second, that he may fix the hour of his execution; and 
the third favour is, that you will not fail to be present.” 

“I grant all three,” said the judge. But when he 
learned that the criminal had chosen a certain hill on 
the downs for the place of execution, and an hour before 
midnight for the time, he sent to beg the sheriff to bear 
him company on this important occasion. 

The sheriff placed himself at the judge’s disposal, but 
he commanded the attendance of the gaoler as some sort 
114 


of protection; and the gaoler, for his part, implored his 
reverence the chaplain to be of the party, as the hill was 
not in good spiritual repute. So, when the time came, 
the four started together, and the hangman and the 
farmer’s son went before them to the foot of the gallows. 

Just as the rope was being prepared, the farmer’s son 
called to the judge, and said, “ If your Honour will walk 
twenty paces down the hill, to where you will see a hit of 
paper, you will learn the fate of the fiddler.” 

“ That is, no doubt, a copy of the poor man’s last con- 
fession,” thought the judge. 

“ Murder will out, Mr. Sheriff,” said he; and in the 
interests of truth and justice he hastened to pick up the 
paper. 

But, the fanner’s son had dropped it as he came along, 
by his mother’s direction, in such a place that the judge 
could not pick it up without putting his foot in the fairy 
ring. Ho sooner had he done so than he perceived an 
innumerable company of little people dressed in green 
cloaks and hoods, who were dancing round in a circle as 
wide as the ring itself. 

They were all about two feet high, and had aged faces, 
brown and withered, like the knots on gnarled trees in 
hedge bottoms, and they squinted horribly; but, in spite 
of their seeming age, they flew round and round like chil- 
dren. 

“ Mr. Sheriff ! Mr. Sheriff ! ” cried the judge, “ come 
and see thie dancing. And hear the music, too, which is 
so lively that it makes the soles of my feet tickle.” 

“ There is no music, my Lord Judge,” said the sheriff, 
running down the hill. “It is the wind whistling over 
the grass that your lordship hears.” 

But -when the sheriff had put his foot by the judge’s 
foot, he saw and heard the same, and he cried out, “ Quick, 
Gaoler, and come down! I should like you to be a wit- 
115 


ness to this matter. And you may take my arm, Gaoler, 
for this music makes me feel unsteady.” 

“ There is no music, sir,” said the gaoler ; “ but your 
worship doubtless hears the creaking of the gallows.” 

But no sooner had the gaolers feet touched the fairy 
ring, than he saw and heard like the rest, and he called 
lustily to the chaplain to come and stop the unhallowed 
measure. 

“ It is a delusion of the Evil One,” said the parson ; 
“ there is not a sound in the air hut the distant croaking 
of some frogs.” But when he too touched the ring, he 
perceived his mistake. 

At this moment the moon shone out, and in the mid- 
dle of the ring they saw Limping Tom the fiddler, play- 
ing till great drops stood out on his forehead, and danc- 
ing as madly as he played. 

“ Ah, you rascal ! ” cried the judge. “ Is this where 
you’ve been all this time, and a better man than you as 
good as hanged for you ? But you shall come home now.” 

Saying which, he ran in, and seized the fiddler by the 
arm, but Limping Tom resisted so stoutly that the sheriff 
had to go to the judge’s assistance, and even then the 
fairies so pinched and hindered them that the sheriff was 
obliged to call upon the gaoler to put his arms about his 
waist, who persuaded the chaplain to add his strength to 
the string. But as ill luck would have it, just as they 
were getting off, one of the fairies picked up Limping 
Tom’s fiddle, which had fallen in the scuffle, and began 
to play. And as he began to play, every one began to 
dance — the fiddler, and the judge, and the sheriff, and 
the gaoler, and even the chaplain. 

“ Hangman ! hangman ! ” screamed the judge, as he 
lifted first one leg and then the other to the tune, “ come 
down and catch hold of his reverence the chaplain. The 
prisoner is pardoned, and he can lay hold too.” 

116 


The hangman knew the judge’s voice, and ran towards 
it; but as they were now quite within the ring he could 
see nothing, either of him or his companions. 

The farmer’s son followed, and warning the hangman 
not to touch the ring, he directed him to stretch his hands 
forward in hopes of catching hold of some one. In a few 
minutes the wind blew the chaplain’s cassock against the 
hangman’s fingers, and he caught the parson round the 
waist. The farmer’s son then seized him in like fashion, 
and each holding firmly by the other, the fiddler, the 
judge, the sheriff, the gaoler, the parson, the hangman, 
and the farmer’s son all got safely out of the charmed 
circle. 

“ Oh, you scoundrel ! ” cried the judge to the fiddler ; 
“ I have a very good mind to hang you upon the gallows 
without further ado.” 

But the fiddler only looked like one possessed, and up- 
braided the farmer’s son for not having the patience to 
wait three minutes for him. 

“ Three minutes ! ” cried he ; “ why you’ve been here 
three months and a day.” 

This the fiddler would not believe, and as he seemed 
in every way beside himself, they led him home, still up- 
braiding his companion, and crying continually for his 
fiddle. 

His neighbours watched him closely, but one day he 
escaped from their care and wandered away over the hills 
to seek his fiddle, and came back no more. 

His dead body was found upon the downs, face down- 
wards, with the fiddle in his arms. Some said he had 
really found the fiddle where he had left it, and had been 
lost in a mist, and died of exposure. But others held 
that he had perished differently, and laid his death at the 
door of the fairy dancers. 

As to the farmer’s son, it is said that thenceforward he 
117 


went home from market by the highroad, and spoke the 
truth straight out, and was more careful of his com- 
pany. 


THE WISE OLD SHEPHERD 

Once upon a time, a snake went out of his hole to take 
an airing. He crawled about, greatly enjoying the 
scenery and the fresh whiff of the breeze, until, seeing an 
open door, he went in. Now this door was the door of 
the palace of the King, and inside was the King himself, 
with all his courtiers. 

Imagine their horror at seeing a huge snake crawling 
in at the door. They all ran away except the King, who 
felt that his rank forbade him to be a coward, and the 
King’s son. The King called out for somebody to come 
and kill the snake; but this horrified them still more, 
because in that country the people believed it to be wicked 
to kill any living thing, even snakes, and scorpions, and 
wasps. So the courtiers did nothing, but the young prince 
obeyed his father, and killed the snake with his stick. 

After a while the Snake’s wife became anxious, and set 
out in search of her husband. 'She too saw the open 
door of the palace, and in she went. 0 horror ! there on 
the floor lay the body of her husband, all covered with 
blood, and quite dead. No one saw the Snake’s wife crawl 
in; she inquired from a white ant what had happened, 
and when she found that the young Prince had killed her 
husband, she made a vow, that as he had made her a widow, 
so she would make his wife a widow. 

That night, while all the world was asleep, the snake 
crept into the Prince’s bedroom, and coiled around his 
neck. The Prince slept on, and when he awoke in the 
morning, he was surprised to find his neck encircled with 
118 


the coils of a Snake. He was afraid to stir, so there he 
remained, until the Prince’s mother became anxious, and 
went to see what was the matter. 

When she entered his room, and saw him in this plight, 
she gave a loud shriek, and ran off to tell the King. 

“ Call the archers,” said the King. The archers came, 
and the King told them to go to the Prince’s room, and 
shoot the snake that was coiled around his neck. They 
were so clever, that they could easily do this without hurt- 
ing the Prince at all. 

In came the archers in a row, fitted the arrows to the 
bows, the bows were raised and ready to shoot, when, on 
a sudden, from the snake there issued a voice, which spoke 
as follows : — 

“ 0 archers ! wait, and hear me before you shoot. It 
is not fair to carry out the sentence before you have heard 
the case. Is not this good law, an eye for an eye, and a 
tooth for a tooth ? Is it not so, 0 King ? ” 

“Yes,” replied the King, “that is our law.” 

“ Then,” said the Snake, “ I plead the law. Your son 
has made me a widow, so it is fair and right that I should 
make his wife a widow.” 

“ That sounds right enough,” said the King, “ but right 
and law are not always the same thing. We had better 
ask some one who knows.” 

They asked all the judges, but none of them could tell 
the law of the matter. They shook their heads, and said 
they would look up all their law-books, and see whether 
anything of the sort had ever happened before, and if so, 
how it had been decided. That is the way judges used to 
decide cases in that country, though I daresay it sounds 
to you a very funny way. It looked as if they had not 
so much sense in their own heads, and perhaps that was 
true. The upshot of all was, that not a judge would give 
an opinion; so the King sent messengers all over the 
119 


country-side, to see if they could find somebody some- 
where who knew something. 

One of these messengers found a party of five Shepherds, 
who were sitting upon a hill and trying to decide a quarrel 
of their own. They gave their opinions so freely, and in 
language so strong, that the King’s messenger said to 
himself, “ Here are the men for us. Here are five men, 
each with an opinion of his own, and all different.” Post- 
haste he scurried back to the King, and told him he had 
found at last some one ready to judge the knotty point. 

So the King and Queen, and the Prince and Princess, 
and all the courtiers, got on horseback, and away they 
galloped to the hill where the five Shepherds were sitting, 
and the snake too went with them, coiled around the neck 
of the Prince. 

When they got to the Shepherds’ hill, the Shepherds 
were dreadfully frightened. At first they thought that 
the strangers were a gang of robbers; and when they saw 
that it was the King, their next thought was that one of 
their misdeeds had been found out, and each of them began 
thinking what was the last thing he had done, and won- 
dering was it that? But the King and his court got off 
their horses, and said good-day in the most civil way. 
So the Shepherds felt their minds set at ease again. Then 
the King said — 

“ Worthy Shepherds, we have a question to put to you, 
which not all the judges in all the courts of my city have 
been able to solve. Here is my son, and here, as you see, 
is a snake coiled round his neck. Now, the husband of 
this snake came creeping into my palace hall, and my son 
the Prince killed him; so this snake, who is the wife of 
the other, says that as my son has made her a widow, so 
she has a right to make my son’s wife a widow. What do 
you think about it?” 

The first Shepherd said, “ I think she is quite right, 
120 


my lord King. If any one made my wife a widow, I 
would pretty soon do the same to him.” 

This was brave language, and the other Shepherds shook 
their heads and looked fierce. But the King was puzzled, 
and could not quite understand it. You see in the first 
place if the man’s wife were a widow, the man would be 
dead ; and then it is hard to see how he could do any- 
thing. So to make sure, the King asked the second 
Shepherd whether that was his opinion too? 

“Yes,” said the second Shepherd; “now the Prince 
has killed the snake, the snake has the right to kill the 
Prince, if he can.” 

But that was not of much use either, as the Snake was 
dead as a door-nail. So the King passed on to the third. 

“ I agree with my mates,” said the third Shepherd, “ be- 
cause, you see a Prince is a Prince, and a Snake is a 
Snake.” 

That was quite true, they all admitted; but it did not 
seem to help the matter much. Then the King asked the 
fourth Shepherd to say what he thought. 

The fourth Shepherd said, “An eye for an eye, and a 
tooth for a tooth; so I think a widow should be a widow, 
if she don’t marry again.” 

By this time the poor King was so puzzled that he 
hardly knew whether he stood on his head or his heels. 
But there was still a fifth Shepherd left, the oldest and 
wisest of them all; and the fifth Shepherd said — 

“ 0 King, I should like to ask two questions.” 

“ Ask twenty if you like,” said the King. He did not 
promise to answer them, so he could afford to be generous. 

“ First I ask the Princess how many sons she has ? ” 

“Four,” said the Princess. 

“ And how many sons has the Mistress Snake here ? ” 

“ Seven,” said the Snake. 

“Then,” said the old Shepherd, “it will be quite fair 
121 


for Mistress Snake to kill his highness the Prince, when 
her Highness the Princess has had three more sons.” 

“I never thought of that,” said the Snake. “ Good- 
bye, King, and all you good people. Send a message 
when the Princess has had three more sons, and you may 
count upon me — I will not fail you.” So saying she 
uncoiled herself from the Prince’s neck and slid away 
among the grass. 

The King and the Prince and everybody shook hands 
with the wise old Shepherd, and went home again. And 
as the Princess never had any more sons at all, she and 
the Prince lived happily for many years more. 


THE FROG AND THE WILD-HOG 

A wild-hoo was boasting to a frog about his skill in 
running, and the frog challenged him to race to the top 
of a hill. Just as the hog commenced to run, the frog 
leaped upon his back, and the hog knew nothing about 
it, because his skin was so thick that he did not feel the 
extra weight at all. So the wild-hog raced and galloped, 
and as he arrived at the goal, the frog jumped off without 
letting the hog 6ee him do so. 

The latter was greatly surprised, and then proposed 
that they should see which could leap the farthest. “ Just 
as you please,” said the frog, “but you will have to do 
your best to beat me.” 

So the two came to the water-side, and as the hog was 
about to leap, the frog jumped upon his back as before, 
and again the stupid fellow did not know it, his hide be- 
ing so thick. And so, when they were just at the goal, 
the frog leaped off again, and he was first. 

The wild-hog of course was very angry, but was so 
122 


astonished to see the frog take it so easily, that he said, 
“I think you are a rascal, but there is no getting the 
better of you.” 


THE HUNTER AND THE SERPENT 

Once a hunter passed by a quarry and found a serpent 
under a stone. The reptile asked the hunter to release 
him, and he answered, “ I will not extricate you, for you 
will eat me.” The serpent replied, “ Please deliver me; 
I will not eat you.” 

But when the hunter had drawn away the stone from 
above him, the serpent sought to eat him, and the hunter 
said, “Did you not promise that you would not eat me? ” 

The serpent answered him, “ I am so hungry that I 
cannot keep that bargain.” 

“But,” replied the hunter, “if you are not right in 
eating me, will you still do so ? ” 

The serpent said, “No,” so the hunter then said, 
“ Come let us seek three persons’ opinions.” 

So they went into a thicket,- where they found a grey- 
hound : they questioned him, and he said, “ I was once 
with a master, and I caught hares, and when I brought 
them to his house he could not find meat good enough 
for me to eat. But now, when I cannot even catch tor- 
toises, because I am so old, he wishes to kill me. There- 
fore I condemn thee to be eaten by the serpent.” 

“Do you hear?” said the serpent to the hunter; “we 
have a judge.” 

They went farther, and met with a horse. They ques- 
tioned him, and he also replied that the serpent would be 
right in eating the hunter. “For,” said he, “I had a 
master, who gave me food so long as I could work hard 
123 


for him. I am too old to do so now, and he wishes to 
kill me.” 

Then said the serpent to the hunter, “We have two 
judges." 

They went on, and found a fox, to whom the hunter 
said, “ Dear Reynard, you must come to my aid. Listen : 
I was passing a quarry, and under a great stone I found 
this serpent almost dead. He asked me to help him, so 
I took him out, and now he wants to eat me." 

The fox replied, “ Must I be the judge ? Let us go 
then to the quarry, and see how you found the serpent." 

So they went thither, and placed the stone upon the 
serpent, and the fox then asked him, “Is that how you 
were ? " 

The serpent said, “ Yes." And the fox said, “ Ah, well, 
then just stay there always." 


GLOB AND ALGER 

Before Jutland was united under one sovereign there were 
many petty kings there, each of whom had his portion of 
land to rule over, who were almost always engaged in quar- 
rels and warfare with one another. One of these kings was 
named Alger; he ruled over Sallingland. His neighbour 
was Glob of Fuur, an isle also in the Limfiord, about a 
mile from Sailing. Glob had come from* Thy with a great 
army, and w r arred with the king of Fuurland, until he at 
length slew him, drove away his son, and made himself 
king over the people of Fuur. Alger was thus king in 
Sailing, and Glob in Fuur. 

The fugitive prince fled from place to place, without 
* Also in the Limfiord. 


124 



“The fox said, ‘All! Well 


-)W« 


then, just stay there always 













































having any fixed abode; for Glob had declared him an 
outlaw, and set a price upon his head. At the time these 
events took place, he lived in a small dwelling in the 
neighbourhood of Alger’s castle at Sailing. When Glob 
had gained a firm footing in Fuurland he resolved on 
extending his power, and trying whether he could not 
also become King over Sailing. For this purpose he 
assembled a large army and crossed the “ fiord;” but his 
attempt ended by his being driven back with great loss, 
and it subsequently appeared that he had given up all 
hostile designs against Alger. In the meantime Alger, 
placing but little reliance on Glob’s pacific policy, en- 
tered into a secret alliance with some of his neighbours, 
by which they bound themselves to come to his aid with 
all the force they could bring, as soon as Alger should 
light the beacons outside his castle, as a sign that the 
enemy was in the neighbourhood. 

When Glob made his attack on Sailing, it happened, 
that one of his courtiers, named Birke, saw Alger’s daugh- 
ter Helvig, and became enamoured of her. When the two 
kings had settled their quarrel, Birke crossed over to 
Sailing and visited Alger. Glob saw this with pleasure, 
because, when he asked permission of the king to go, he 
promised to avail himself of the opportunity to spy out 
all he could. Alger, on his part, was also glad to see 
Birke, knowing how high he stood in Glob’s favour, and 
that no one could give better information of the king’s 
intentions and feeling than he. 

But it was impossible for Birke to preserve the favour 
of both princes. When he had been for sometime at 
Alger’s, and had nearly obtained the promise of Helvig’s 
hand, his love triumphed, and made him a traitor to 
Glob, so that he revealed to Alger all the king’s plans, 
imforming him that he only waited for an opportunity to 
make an attack on Sailing. This soon reached the ear 
125 


of Glob, who was bitterly enraged at the conduct of his 
emissary. 

He immediately sent a messenger over to Alger, de- 
manding that he should give the traitor Birke, also the 
fugitive prince Eiler, who had found shelter in his land. 
Alger refused to comply with either of these demands, 
and laughed at the threats by the king’s messenger. 

With regard to Alger’s daughter, Helvig, her beauty 
had already called forth a host of suitors who, to gain her 
favour, vied with each other in knightly games and song, 
long before Glob came to Fuurland. But Helvig was in- 
different to them all; she had secretly engaged herself to 
the fugitive Eiler, who lived in the neighbourhood of 
Alger’s castle, and was their daily guest. At first she 
only viewed with pity the unfortunate prince; but this 
feeling soon turned to fervent love, and Helvig called 
Heaven to witness that she would rather sing into the 
grave than choose any other for her husband. 

Alger was attached to Eiler, but his interest bade him 
favour Birke; he therefore commanded Helvig to give her 
promise to Birke and forget Eiler. But the maiden was 
not to be persuaded. 

Two years had nearly passed, and Glob had taken no 
hostile steps against Alger. The latter had sent many 
spies over to Euur, in order to find out whether Glob had 
any warlike intentions against him; but the king seemed 
occupied only in chivalrous games and the chase. Heaven 
once sent a messenger over to S allingland to invite Alger 
to visit him. Birke advised the king not to go, adding, 
that he knew Glob too well not to feel certain that it was 
only a stratagem to get him into his power. Alger fol- 
lowed his counsel and remained at home. 

It was in the winter just before Yule, that this invita- 
tion was sent from Euurland to the king. A few days 
after Alger had a great banquet, and drank Yule-ale with 
126 


his guests. Birke in the meanwhile was growing impa- 
tient at the long procrastination of his wishes and ob- 
tained Alger’s promise that he should have his daughter’s 
consent before the New Year’s festivities were over. 

In the evening when all the guests were assembled at 
the castle, and just as the mirth was at its height, the 
watchman’s horn sounded from the tower. At the same 
moment a retainer rushed into the hall, announcing that 
he had seen a number of boats from Fuurland coming in 
the direction of Sailing. Immediately after, another mes- 
senger arrived, who related that King Glob had landed 
with his men, and was burning and destroying everything 
as he advanced. The guests were paralysed at these un- 
looked-for tidings. Alger alone retained his self-posses- 
sion. 

“ I thought rightly enough,” said he, “ that Glob would 
invite himself to our festivity, since I refused to go over 
to him. It concerns all when the wolf is at the door. Our 
business is now to receive him in a fitting manner, and 
that that may take place, I beseech you, my friends, to 
lend me your aid.” 

The guests were silent, and looked at each other: they 
had assembled at the castle to drink Yule-ale, but not to 
fight, and Alger plainly saw that their silence signified no 
less than a refusal. His embarrassment was the greater, 
as, in consequence of the mildness of the winter, many of 
his men were gone to sea, to plunder along the coast of 
Norway. 

Before Alger’s guests had come to any determination, 
Helvig entered the hall, and thus addressed them: “Be 
it known to all here assembled that I am the betrothed of 
Eiler, the son of the late king of Fuurland, and that I 
would rather endure the greatest sufferings than break my 
word, were not my father’s life and fortune now 
threatened; but as I see among his guests men who have 
127 


been suitors for my band, I say to them, that to him who 
is able to free us from this danger, I will give myself and 
be his dutiful wife, so may God help me, as I will keep 
my promise/’ 

These words had a powerful effect on all. The young 
were inflamed to daring deeds in the hope of possessing 
the lovely Helvig, the older were moved by her devotion 
to her father; and thus they left the castle, firmly re- 
solved to exert all their power to save Alger, and drive 
Glob from Sailing. 

The same night, some hours after the guests had de- 
parted, while Glob was making preparations to invest the 
castle on the following day, Helvig left her chamber and, 
accompanied by an attendant, glided silently through a 
secret passage that led into a copse, at the opposite side 
of which Eiler abode. He was greatly surprised at see- 
ing them enter his dwelling. 

“ Rise, Eiler,” said Helvig, “ it is not fitting that thou 
shouldst sleep when Alger’s enemies are awake.” She now 
related to the prince the promise that, urged by necessity, 
she had been obliged to make to her father’s guests, and 
prayed of him to devise some means of anticipating the 
others. u Take thy sword,” added she, “ for to-night thy 
part will be to save thyself, my father, and our youthful 
love.” She then took leave of him, and the two females 
returned alone. 

But Eiler remained mute and motionless long after 
Helvig’s departure. He felt how much depended on im- 
mediate action, he wished so heartily to save Alger ; but he 
seemed destitute of all the means necessary to that ob- 
ject. After reflecting sometime he rose, threw a dark 
cloak over his weapons, and stole into the thicket, towards 
the spot where Glob had pitched his camp. 

There all was life and activity; for the king had re- 
128 


solved on attempting a storm as soon as daylight appeared, 
fearing, if he delayed longer, he should be attacked by 
Alger’s friends. 

Eiler crept as near as he could to the camp, so that he 
heard the enemy’s men conversing together; but he was 
concealed from their sight, by the rushes on the bank of 
a deep ditch, which conveyed the water from the Limfiord 
into the fosses surrounding Alger’s castle. Towards morn- 
ing, Glob had completed his preparations. He had caused 
a small hut to be raised for himself of turf and hides, in 
which he hoped to take some rest before the dawn gave the 
signal for the attack. 

All was quiet in the camp. 

When the men had lain down to sleep where they best 
could, Eiler approached softly, and crept along the edge 
of the ditch, concealed among the rushes, until he had 
passed the watch. He then walked fearlessly forward. 
The camp-fires were nearly burned out, and the darkness 
veiled his features, so that those of the enemy, who were 
not yet asleep, took him for one of their comrades, and 
let him pass where he pleased. 

When he came to the spot where Glob slept, he gently 
raised the hide which hung before the entrance, and crept 
into the hut. 

The king lay on a bench, wrapped in his scarlet cloak. 
A torch was burning on a sod which threw a red glare 
over the sleeper’s countenance. Eiler drew a dagger from 
his belt, held his breath, and glided noiselessly as a snake 
towards the bench. 

He thought of his father, whom Glob had dethroned 
and slain; he thought of the injury he himself had suf- 
fered, how his youth had been passed amid dangers and 
want, during the many years Glob had hunted him as an 
outlaw from place to place; he thought also that Glob’s 
129 


death would free Alger from a powerful foe, and gain for 
him Helvig, the dear object of all his thoughts; but yet 
he hesitated to plunge the dagger into Glob’s breast. 

The king lay still and motionless in a deep sleep, his 
hands folded, as if he had fallen asleep repeating his 
evening prayer. The longer Eiler looked on him, the 
more incapable he became of killing the unarmed. He 
fixed the dagger into the couch close to the king’s head; 
then left the hut, and stole softly out of the camp, as un- 
observed and silently as he had entered it. 

When he had reached the copse, he continued along the 
secret path that led up to Alger’s castle. He went to the 
king, informed him of what he had overheard in the 
enemy’s camp, and what he had done. Alger praised 
Eiler’s daring, and, although he might have been freed 
from a dangerous enemy, who threatened him with de- 
struction, he could not withhold his admiration of the 
youth’s exploit, and would rather live and die with honour 
than owe his deliverance to treachery and crime. Eiler 
remained in the castle, resolved to meet his death with the 
rest of the warriors. 

As the morning sun rose over the wood, the horns were 
sounded in Glob’s camp, and the king moved forward 
towards the castle with all his men, and the strife be- 
gan. All went as Alger had predicted; his force was too 
weak and small to prevent his enemy from ascending the 
ramparts, and when the bells over in Fuur sounded for 
matins. Glob was master of the castle. Alger ordered his 
men to lay down their arms, and no longer fight against 
such overwhelming numbers. He then descended into 
the court-yard, took the royal crown from his head, and 
laid it at the feet of Glob. 

“ God’s peace, and a kindly greeting to you, my brother,” 
cried Fuurland’s king to him, at the same time smilingly 
lifting off his helmet and wiping his forehead. “ You see 
130 


how anxious I am to enjoy your company by coming to in- 
vite you myself, although you refused to be my guest. 
But why take off your crown? I think such greeting too 
lowly.” 

“ I give 3^ou my crown,” answered Alger, " that you 
may take it as you have taken my castle and my kingdom.” 

“ Take back your crown, brother,” replied Glob, " it is 
shaped to your head, and is much better there than at my 
feet. And know that I am come to-day with the inten- 
tion of giving and not of taking.” In saying these words 
he drew from his belt the dagger which Eiler the previous 
night had stuck in his couch. 

" Look here,” said he, " I bring you a knife which one 
of your people, whoever he may be, left behind him in my 
tent last night; and we have been obliged to creep over 
the wall to get in, as you have barred your gates against 
us. Let me now have a few words with the man who owns 
this knife.” 

"The knife is mine.,” said Eiler, advancing towards 
the king; "God delivered thy life into my hands, and I 
spared it, although I have suffered wrongs and bitter 
misery at thy hands.” 

"And was my life really in thy hand, Eiler?” an- 
swered Glob. "Then, as thou hast spared me, I will re- 
ward thee in the best way I can ; and if I have not enough 
to give Alger shall help me. What thinkest thou, my 
brother ? If thou wilt give Eiler thy daughter, I will give 
them their outfit. I think that my kingdom of Fuurland 
will suffice for them. I am an old and childless man, 
and if Eiler will take reparation for blood, he and Helvig 
shall be my children.” 

Alger could hardly believe what he heard, so great was 
his surprise. He shed tears for joy, as he threw his arms 
round Glob and pressed him to his breast; and as the 
horn in the morning sounded for battle, so did the music 

131 


in the evening resound to the dance; for that same night 
the marriage of Helvig and Eiler was celebrated. 

All Helvig’s suitors, who had promised to help Alger 
against his enemy, arrived at the castle just in time to be 
present at the wedding. 


THE WERWOLF, 

There was once a king, who ruled over a large kingdom. 
He was married to a beautiful queen, and they had only 
one child, a daughter. Hence it naturally followed that 
the little one was to her parents as the apple of their eye, 
and was dear to them beyond all other things, so that 
they thought of nothing with such delight as of the pleas- 
ure they should have in her when she grew up. But much 
falls out contrary to expectation; for before the princess 
was out of her childhood, the queen, her mother, fell sick 
and died. How, it is easy to imagine that there was sad- 
ness not only in the royal court, but over the whole king- 
dom, for the queen was greatly beloved by all. The king 
himself was so deeply afflicted that he resolved never to 
marry again, but placed all his comfort and joy in the 
little princess. 

In this manner a considerable time passed by ; the young 
princess grew from day to day taller and fairer, and every- 
thing she at any time desired was by her father immedi- 
ately granted her; many attendants being placed about 
her, for the sole purpose of being at hand to execute all 
her commands. Among these there was a woman who had 
been previously married, and had two daughters. She was 
an agreeable person, and had a persuasive tongue, so that 
she well knew how to put her words together ; added to all 
which she was as soft and pliant as silk; but her heart was 
132 


full of artifices and all kinds of falsehood. No sooner was 
the queen dead than she began to devise plans how she might 
become consort to the king, and her daughters become 
honoured as kings’ daughters. With this object she be- 
gan by winning the affection of the young princess, praised 
beyond measure all that she said or did, and all her talk 
ended in declaring how happy they would he if the king 
would take to himself a new wife. On this subject the 
conversation often turned both early and late, till at length 
the princess could not believe otherwise than that all the 
woman said was true. She therefore asked her what de- 
scription of wife it were most desirable that the king 
should select. The woman, in many words, all sweet as 
honey, answered, “111 would it become me to give an 
opinion in such a case, hoping only he may choose for his 
queen one who will be kind to my little princess. But 
this I know, that were I so fortunate as to be the object 
of his choice, I should think only of what might please 
the princess; and if she wished to wash her hands, one of 
my daughters should hold the basin, and the other hand 
her the towel.” This and much more she said to the 
princess who believed her, as children readily believe all 
that is told them is true. 

Not a day now passed in wdiich the king was free from 
the solicitations of his daughter, who incessantly besought 
him to marry the handsome waiting- woman ; but he would 
not. Nevertheless, the princess would not desist from her 
entreaties, but spoke incessantly precisely as she had been 
taught by the false waiting-woman. One day, when she 
was talking in the same strain, the king broke forth : “ I 
see very well that it must at length be as you have re- 
solved, greatly as it is against my wish; but it shall be 
only on one condition.” “ What is the condition ? ” asked 
the princess, overjoyed. “ It is,” said the king, “ that, as 
it is for your sake if I marry again, you shall promise me 
133 


that if at any future time you shall be discontented with 
your stepmother or your stepsisters, I shall not he trou- 
bled with your complaints and grievances/’ The princess 
made the promise, and it was settled that the king should 
marry the waiting-woman, and make her queen over all his 
realm. 

As time passed on the king’s daughter grew up to be 
the fairest maid in all the land; while the queen’s daugh- 
ters were as ugly in person as in disposition, so that no 
one had a good word for them. There could not, there- 
fore, fail of being a number of young princes and knights, 
from both east and west, coming to demand the young 
princess; while not one vouchsafed to woo either of the 
queen’s daughters. At this the stepmother was sorely 
vexed at heart, however she might conceal her feelings, 
being, to all outward appearance, as smooth and humble 
as before. Among the suitors there was a king’s son from 
a far distant country, who was both young and valorous, 
and as he passionately loved the princess, she listened to 
his addresses, and plighted her faith to him in return. 
The queen observed all this with a jaundiced eye; for she 
would fain have had the prince marry one of her own 
daughters, and, therefore, resolved that the young couple 
should never be united with each other. From that mo- 
ment her thoughts were solely bent on the destruction both 
of them and their love. 

An opportunity soon offered itself to her; for just at 
that time intelligence was received that an enemy had 
invaded the country, so that the king was obliged to take 
the field. The princess was now soon made to learn what 
kind of a stepmother she had got ; for hardly had the king 
departed before the queen began to show her true dispo- 
sition, so that she now was as cruel and malignant as she 
had previously appeared to be friendly and obliging. Not 
a day passed on which the princess did not hear maledic- 
134 


tions and hard words; nor did the queen’s daughters yield 
to their mother in wickedness. But a lot still more cruel 
awaited the young prince, the lover of the princess. While 
engaged in the chase he had lost his way, and was sep- 
arated from his companions. Availing herself of the 
opportunity, the queen practised on him her wicked arts, 
and transformed him into a werwolf, so that for the re- 
mainder of his days he should be a prowler of the forest. 
When evening drew on, and the prince did not appear, his 
men returned home; and the sorrow may be easily imag- 
ined with which the princess was overwhelmed when she 
was informed how the chase had terminated. She wept 
and mourned day and night, and would not be comforted. 
But the queen laughed at her afflictions, and rejoiced in 
her false heart that everything had turned out so agreeably 
to her wishes. 

As the princess was one day sitting alone in her maiden- 
bower, it entered her mind that she would visit the forest 
in which the young prince had disappeared. She went, 
therefore, to her stepmother, and asked permission to go 
to the wood, that she might for a little while forget her 
heavy affliction. To her request the queen would hardly 
give her consent, as she was always more inclined to say 
no than yes; but the princess besought her so earnestly 
that at last her stepmother could no longer withhold her 
permission, only ordering one of her daughters to accom- 
pany and keep watch over her. A long dispute now arose 
between mother and daughters, neither of the stepsisters 
being willing to go with her, but excusing themselves, and 
asking what pleasure they could have in following one who 
did nothing but weep. The matter ended by the queen in- 
sisting that one of her daughters should go with the prin- 
cess, however much it might be against her will. The 
maidens then strolled away from the palace and reached 
the forest, where the princess amused herself by wander- 
135 


ing among the trees, and listening to the song of the 
birds, and thinking on the friend she loved so dearly, and 
\vhom she now had lost; the queen’s daughter following 
all the while, with a heart full of rancorous feeling for 
the princess and her grief. 

After having wandered about for some time they came 
to a small cottage that stood far in the dark forest. At 
the same moment the princess was seized with a burning 
thirst, and entreated her stepsister to accompany her to 
the cottage, that she might get a draught of water. At 
this the queen’s daughter became only more ill-humoured, 
and said, “Is it not enough that I follow you up and 
down in the wild wood? Now, because you are a princess, 
you require me to go into such a filthy nest. No, my 
foot shall never enter it. If you will go, go alone.” The 
princess took no long time to consider, but did as her step- 
sister said, and entered the cabin. In the little apart- 
ment she saw an aged woman sitting on a bench, who ap- 
peared so stricken with years that her head shook. The 
princess saluted her, as was her wont, in a friendly tone, 
with “ Good evening, good mother ! may I ask you for a 
little drink of water?” “Yes, and right welcome,” an- 
swered the old woman. “Who are you that come under 
my humble roof with so kind a greeting ? ” The princess 
told her that she was the king’s daughter, and had come 
out to divert herself, with the hope, in some degree, of 
forgetting her heavy affliction. “ What affliction have you, 
then?” asked the old woman. “Well may I grieve,” an- 
swered the princess, “ and never more feel joyful. I have 
lost my only friend, and God alone knows whether we shall 
ever meet again.” She then related to the old woman all 
that had taken place, while the tears flowed from her eyes 
in such torrents that no one could have refrained from pity- 
ing her. When she had concluded, the old woman said, “ It 
is well that you have made your grief known to me; I 
136 


have experienced much, and can, perhaps, give you some 
advice. When you go from hence you will see a lily grow- 
ing in the field. This lily is not like other lilies, but has 
many wonderful properties. Hasten therefore to pluck it. 
If you can do so, all will be well ; for then there will come 
one who will tell you what you are to do.” Then they 
parted; the princess having thanked her, continued her 
walk, and the old woman remained sitting on her bench 
and shaking her head. But the queen’s daughter had 
been standing during the whole time outside the door, 
murmuring and fretting that the princess stayed so long. 

When she came out she had to hear much chiding from 
her stepsister, as was to be expected; but to this she gave 
very little heed, thinking only of how she should find the 
flower of which the old woman had spoken. She there- 
fore proceeded further into the forest, and in the selfsame 
moment her eye fell on a spot where there 6tood a beauti- 
ful white lily in full bloom before her. On seeing it she 
was so glad, so glad, and instantly ran to gather it, but it 
vanished suddenly and appeared again at some distance. 
The princess was now eager beyond measure, and no longer 
gave heed to the voice of her stepsister, but continued run- 
ning; though every time she put forth her hand to take 
the flower it was already away, and immediately reap- 
peared at a short distance farther off. Thus it continued 
for a considerable time, and the princess penetrated 
further and further into the dense forest, the lily all the 
while appearing and vanishing, and again showing itself, 
and every time looking taller and more beautiful than be- 
fore. In this manner the princess came to a high moun- 
tain, when on casting her eyes up to the summit, there 
stood the flower on the very edge, as brilliant and fair 
as the brightest star. She now began to climb up the 
mountain, caring for neither the stocks nor stones that lay 
in the way, so great was her ardour. When she at length 
137 


gained the mountain’s top, lo! the lily no longer moved, 
but continued stationary. The princess then stooped and 
plucked it, and placed it in her bosom, and was so over- 
joyed that she forgot both stepsister and everything in the 
world besides. 

For a long time the princess could not sufficiently feast 
her eyes with the sight of the beautiful flower. It then 
on a sudden entered her mind what her stepmother would 
say when she returned home for having stayed out so long. 
She looked about her before returning to the palace, but 
on casting a glance behind her she saw that the sun had 
gone down, and that only a strip of day yet tarried on the 
mountain’s summit; while down before her the forest ap- 
peared so dark and gloomy, that she did not trust herself 
to find the way through it. She was now exceedingly 
weary and exhausted, and saw no alternative but that she 
must remain for the night where she was. Sitting then 
down on the rock, she placed her hand under her cheek 
and wept, and thought of her wicked stepmother and step- 
sisters, and all the bitter words she must hear when she 
returned home, and of the king, her father, who was ab- 
sent, and of the beloved of her heart, whom she should 
never see again; but abundantly as her tears flowed she 
noticed them not, so absorbing was her affliction. Night 
now drew on, all was shrouded in darkness, the stars rose 
and set, but the princess still continued sitting on the 
same spot, weeping without intermission. While thus sit- 
ting, lost in thought, she heard a voice greeting her with 
“ Good evening, fair maiden ! Why do you sit here so 
lonely and sorrowful ? ” She started and was greatly sur- 
prised, as may be easily imagined; and on looking back 
there stood a little, little old man, who nodded and looked 
so truly benevolent. She answered, “I may well be sor- 
rowful, and never more be glad. I have lost my best 
beloved, and have, moreover, missed my path in the forest, 
138 


so that I am fearful of being devoured by the wild beasts.” 
“ Oh,” said the old man, “ don’t be disheartened for that. 
If you will obey me in all that I say, I will help you.” 
To this the princess readily assented, seeing herself for- 
saken by the whole world besides. The old man then drew 
forth a flint and steel, and said, “ Fair maiden ! now, in 
the first place, you shall kindle a fire.” The king’s 
daughter did as she was desired, gathered moss, twigs, and 
dry wood, and kindled a fire on the mountain’s brow. 
When she had done this the old man said to her, “ Go now 
further on the mountain, and you will find a pot full of 
tar : bring it hither.” The princess did so. The old man 
continued : “ Now set the pot on the fire.” The princess 

did so. “ When, now, the tar begins to boil,” said the old 
man, “ cast your white lily into the pot.” This seemed 
to the princess a very hard command, and she prayed 
earnestly that she might retain her lily; but the old man 
said: “ Have you not promised to obey me in all that I 
desire? Do as I tell you; you will not repent.” The 
princess then, with eyes averted, cast the lily into the boil- 
ing pot, although it grieved her to the heart so dear to 
her was the beautiful flower. 

At the same instant a hollow roaring was heard from 
the forest, like the cry of a wild beast, which came nearer 
and nearer, and passed into a hideous howl, so that the 
mountain re-echoed on every side. At the same time was 
heard a cracking and rustling among the trees, the bushes 
gave way, and the princess beheld a huge grey wolf come 
rushing out of the forest just opposite to the spot where 
they were sitting. In her terror she would gladly have 
fled from it; but the old man said, “ Make haste, run to 
the brow of the mountain, and the moment the wolf comes 
before you, empty the tar-pot over him.” The princess, 
although so terrified that she was hardly conscious of 
what she did, nevertheless followed the old man’s direction, 
139 


and poured the tar over the wolf, just as he came running 
towards her. But now a wonderful event took place, for 
scarcely had she done so when the wolf changed his cover- 
ing, the great grey skin started off from him, and, in- 
stead of a ravenous wild beast, there stood a comely youth 
with eyes directed towards the brow of the mountain; and 
when the princess had so far recovered from her fright 
that she could look on him, whom did she behold before 
her but her own best beloved, who had been transformed 
into a werwolf! 

Now let any one, who can, imagine what the feelings of 
the princess were at this moment. She stretched out her 
arms towards him, but could neither speak nor answer, so 
great were her surprise and joy. But the prince ran up 
the mountain and embraced her with all the ardour of the 
truest affection, and thanked her for having restored him. 
Nor did he forget the little old man, but thanked him in 
many kind words for his powerful aid. They then sat 
down on the mountain-top and conversed lovingly with 
each other. The prince related how he had been changed 
into a wolf, and all the privations he had suffered while 
he had to range about the forest; and the princess re- 
counted to him her sorrow and all the tears she had shed 
during his absence. Thus they sat throughout the night, 
heedless of the passing hours, until the stars began grad- 
ually to retire before the daylight, so that the surrounding 
objects were visible. When the sun had risen they per- 
ceived that a wide road ran from the foot of the hill quite 
up to the royal palace. Then said the old man, “Fair 
maiden, turn about. Do you see anything yonder ?” 
“Yes,” answered the princess, “I see a horseman on a 
foaming horse; he rides along the road at full speed.” 
“ That,” said the old man, “ is a messenger from the 
king, your father. He will follow forthwith with his 
whole army.” Now was the princess glad beyond measure, 
140 


and wished instantly to descend to meet her father; but 
the old man held her back, saying, “Wait: it is yet too 
soon. Let us first see how things will turn out.” 

After some time the sun shone bright, so that its rays 
fell upon the palace down before them. Then said the old 
man, “Fair maiden, turn about. Do you see anything 
yonder ? ” “ Yes,” answered the princess, “ I see many 
persons coming out of my father’s palace, some of whom 
proceed along the road, while others hasten towards the 
forest.” The old man said, “They are your stepmother’s 
servants. She has sent one party to meet the king and 
bid him welcome; but the other is going to the forest in 
search of you.” At hearing this the princess was troubled, 
and was with difficulty induced to remain, but wished to 
go down to the queen’s people; hut the old man held her 
hack, saying, “Wait yet a little while; we will first see 
how things turn out,” 

For some time the princess continued with her looks 
directed towards the road by which the king was to come. 
Then said the old man again, “Fair maiden, turn about. 
Do you observe anything yonder?” “Yes,” answered 
the princess, “ there, is a great stir in my father’s palace ; 
and see ! now they are busy in hanging the whole palace 
with black.” The old man said, “ That is your stepmother 
and her servants. They wish to make your father believe 
that you are dead.” At this the princess was filled with 
anxiety, and prayed fervently, saying, “Let me go, let 
me go, that I may spare my father so great an affliction.” 
But the old man detained her, saying, “Yo, wait. It is 
still too soon. We will first see how things turn out.” 

Another interval passed, the sun rose high in the 
heaven, and the air breathed warm over field and forest; 
but the royal children and the little old man continued sit- 
ting on the mountain where we left them. They now ob- 
served a small cloud slowly rising in the horizon, which 
141 


grew larger and larger, and came nearer and nearer along 
the road; and as it moved they saw that it glittered with 
weapons, and perceived helmets nodding and banners wav- 
ing, heard the clanking of swords and the neighing of horses, 
and at length recognised the royal standard. Now it is easy 
to imagine that the joy of the princess exceeded all bounds, 
and that she only longed to go and meet her father. But 
the old man held her back, saying, “Turn about, fair 
maiden, do you see nothing at the king’s palace ? ” “ Yes,” 
answered the princess, “ I see my stepmother and my step- 
sisters coming out clad in deep mourning, and holding 
white handkerchiefs to their faces, and weeping bitterly.” 
The old man said, “They are now pretending to mourn 
for your death; but wait awhile, we have yet to see how 
things turn out.” 

Some time after, the old man asked again, “Fair 
maiden, turn about. Do you observe anything yonder ? ” 
“ Yes,” answered the princess, “ I see them come bearing 
a black coffin. Now my father orders it to be opened. 
And see ! the queen and her daughters fall on their knees, 
and my father threatens them with his sword.” The old 
man said, “The king desired to see your corpse, and so 
your wicked stepmother has been forced to confess the 
truth.” On hearing this, the princess entreated fervently : 
“ Let me go, let me go, that I may console my father in 
his great affliction.” But the old man still detained her, 
saying, “Attend to my counsel, and stay here a little 
while. We have not seen how everything will termi- 
nate.” 

Another interval passed, and the princess, and the 
prince, and the little old man, still continued sitting on 
the mountain. Then said the old man, “ Turn about, fair 
maiden. Do you see anything yonder?” “Yes,” an- 
swered the princess, “I see my father, and my step- 
mother, and my stepsisters, coming this way with all their 
142 


attendants.” The old man continued, “ They have now 
set out in search of you. Go down now, and bring the 
wolfskin which is lying below.” The king’s daughter did 
so, and the old man then said, “ Place yourself on the 
brink of the mountain.” The princess did so, and at the 
same moment perceived the queen and her daughters com- 
ing along the road just beneath the mountain where they 
were sitting. “Now,” said the old man, “cast the wolf- 
skin straight down.” The princess obeyed, and cast the 
wolfskin as the old man had directed. It fell directly over 
the wicked queen and her two daughters. But now a won- 
derful event took place, for hardly had the skin touched 
the three women than they changed their guise, gave a 
howl, and were transformed into three fierce werwolves, 
which at full speed rushed into the wild forest. 

Scarcely had this taken place before the king himself 
with all his men came to the foot of the mountain. When 
he looked up and beheld the princess, he could not at 
first believe his eyes but stood immovable, thinking it was 
a spectre. The old man then cried, “ Pair maiden, hasten 
now down and gladden the heart of your father.” The 
princess did not wait to be told a second time, but, taking 
her lover by the hand, was in an instant at the mountain’s 
foot. When they reached the spot where the king was 
standing, the princess fell on her father’s breast and wept 
for joy; the young prince also wept; even the king him- 
self shed tears, and to every one present their meeting was 
a delightful spectacle. Great joy was there and many 
embracings, and the princess related all her sufferings at 
the hands of her stepmother and stepsisters, and all about 
her beloved prince, and the little old man who had so 
kindly assisted them. But when the king turned to thank 
him he had already vanished, and no one could ever say 
either who he was or whither he went. 

The king and all his suite now returned to the palace, 
143 


on their way towards which much was said both about the 
little old man and what the princess had undergone. On 
reaching home the king ordered a sumptuous banquet to 
be prepared, to which he invited all the most distinguished 
and exalted persons of his kingdom, and bestowed his 
daughter on the young prince; and their nuptials were 
celebrated with games and rejoicings for many days. And 
I, too, was at the feastings; and as I rode through the 
forest I was met by a wolf with two young ones; they 
were ravenous, and seemed to suffer much. I have since 
learned that they were no other than the wicked step- 
mother and her two daughters. 


THE TONGUE-CUT SPARROW, 

Long, long ago in a beautiful part of western Japan, 
there dwelt an old man and his wife. 

They were both hard-working people, but the old woman 
had one great fault. She was a regular cross-patch, and 
did nothing else besides her daily toil but grumble from 
morn till night. 

Now these old people had no little children of their own, 
and so the poor old man, who grew tired of hearing his 
wife scold so much, kept a little brown sparrow which he 
loved very much. When evening came, and he returned 
home from working in the rice fields, he would take his 
little pet from its wooden cage, and let it fly about the 
room. Sometimes he would whistle and talk to it, and 
let it feed out of his hand. The old man loved his little 
brown friend! 

One day, when the husband was out in the rice fields 
as usual, his wife, who intended to wash some clothes, 
went to get her bowl of rice starch which she had got ready 
144 


the night before, when, to her astonishment, the bowl was 
empty. The old woman at once blamed the cat and was 
going to cnt a long thick stick to beat it for its theft, when 
the little truthful bird flew down to her and said, “Do 
not beat the poor cat, for it was I who took the starch. I 
did not intend to steal it, as I thought it was food put out 
for me to eat. I am very sorry indeed ! 99 

“ Bah ! ” growled the old woman. “ It was you, was it ? 
You greedy, good-for-nothing little brown wretch ! 99 

Now the old woman had never loved the sparrow, and 
she was glad to have some cause of complaint against the 
little helpless thing. 

“ Fll pay you out for taking my starch / 5 she cried. “ It 
was that tongue of yours, I suppose, that licked it up, so 
I will cut it off . 55 

Saying this she quickly seized the poor trembling little 
bird, and with her long sharp scissors cut off its little 
tongue. 

“ There now,” she said, “ how do you like that ? It 
serves you right, you greedy thing ! ” — and taking it to 
the window she drove the tiny tongue-cut sparrow away. 

That evening when, the tired old man came home from 
his hard daily toil, he looked in every room for his little 
pet, and was very much troubled at not finding her. 

“Where is my little Suzume san?” (Miss Sparrow) he 
asked his wife. 

The evil old woman at first would not tell him, but at 
last she told her husband how the sparrow had eaten the 
rice starch, and how in her great anger she had taken her 
sharp scissors, and cut out its tongue and finally driven 
it away. 

“ Oh ! my poor little pet ! My poor little sparrow ! 
My poor helpless little thing ! 99 were the only words the 
kind old man could utter. “ Never again will she be able 
to sing to me. Never again shall I hear her sweet voice. 

145 


Ah! how cruel and unkind it was to hurt my little pet 
like that,” and the old man wept bitterly. 

Late that night, when his wife was fast asleep, the old 
man decided to go and seek for his little tongue-cut friend ; 
so rising early next morning he set out through the woods 
in search of the sparrow. 

When mid-day came, the old man stopped to rest under 
a shady clump of pine trees, and as he was resting, to his 
greatest joy he saw his own darling sparrow suddenly fly 
down from a tall pine tree in front of him. Oh how glad 
he was! He caressed his little friend again and again, 
and at last asked about its “ honourable ” tongue. The 
old man told the little sparrow how very sorry he was to 
learn of his wife’s cruelty, and hoped that the sparrow 
would soon forgive his wife. 

“ See here ! ” said the sparrow after a short time, “ I 
have another tongue.” On hearing his little tongue-cut 
friend 6peak, the old man’s joy knew no bounds. Old as 
he was, he jumped and danced with joy, until the sparrow 
had to laugh heartily. He forgot all his troubles, and 
said that the bird must be indeed a fairy, to have grown 
another tongue in so short a time. “ How,” said the 
sparrow, speaking more sweetly than ever, “let me take 
you to my house in that grove of pine trees yonder.” 
“ Thank you,” replied the man, “ I should like very 
much to go,” and away they both went. On reaching the 
grove the old man was amazed to see the outside of a small, 
neatly built house, and upon entering inside his heart was 
filled with ecstasy. On the floor, which was built of 
satinwood, were cream-coloured “tatami” (mats), and the 
“zabuton,” or the small cushions for sitting upon, as 
Japanese houses have no chairs, were of rich plum-col- 
oured silk. Beautiful “ kakemonos ” hung from the walls, 
and vases and ornaments adorned many a cosy nook and 
corner. The sparrow, after leading the kind old man to 
146 


the place of honour, the “tokonoma,” and thanking him 
for the many kindnesses which he had given her, intro- 
duced all her family. There were the young and graceful 
Misses Sparrow, and the two young and clever Masters 
Sparrow. After a happy talk all together, the Misses 
Sparrow played the “samisen,” and sang, while the two 
clever Masters Sparrow told stories of famous warriors of 
long ago. When dinner was over, they went outside on 
the verandah and drank their little cups of green tea. 
Now as darkness was fast setting in, and the old man had 
a long way to go before reaching his home, he rose to de- 
part, after thanking his kind hostess and her daughter 
and sons for the very happy welcome they had given him. 
They were very sorry to lose the kind old man, and asked 
him to stay a few days longer with them, but he excused 
himself by saying he would come again to see them. Still 
they insisted on his staying, but he said he must return 
to his old wife, who would be wondering where he had got 
to; and also there was much to be done in the fields, so 
he would ask them again to excuse him. 

“ Very well, my dear friend,” said the mother sparrow, 
“we shall not keep you; only come again as often as you 
can.” Ringing a bell, she told the servant to bring in 
the two boxes standing outside. One was large, and one 
was small. The mother sparrow placed them both be- 
fore the old man, and told him to choose one as a present 
from herself and family. 

The old man chose the smaller box, saying, “I thank 
you very much, but I shall gladly take the smaller one, 
as it will be easier for me to carry. I give you a thousand 
thanks "for your kindness. Sayonara ! Sayonara!” 

After they had all said “ Sayonara,” the old man shoul- 
dered his box and trudged joyfully homeward. 

When he reached his home, he found his wife angrier 
than ever. She began to scold him dreadfully, saying, 
147 


“ You lazy old thing, wherever have you been ? How is 
it you are so late? Here I have been waiting for you 
ever so long ! A kind husband you are, to be sure ! ” 

The old man took all her angry remarks without say- 
ing a word; but at last he said, " Wife, look here ! I have 
something in this box. Let me tell you where it came 
from.” So he told his cross old wife how he had met the 
little sparrow, and how he had been entertained at her 
house. The old woman was greatly surprised, but when 
she and her husband came to open the box, she was still 
more surprised. To their great joy they found it full of 
gold and silver coins, and as they emptied them out upon 
the mats, they found many precious stones glittering at 
the bottom of the box. There lay the great shining heap 
upon the floor, and both the old man and his wife feasted 
their eyes upon it. 

" You kind little bird,” the old man said many times, 
" how good you are ; now I shall not have to work so hard.” 
But as the eyes of the greedy old woman fell upon the 
heap of precious things, she began to reproach and scold 
the old man for not having brought the larger box. " You 
old stupid ! ” she sneered, " why didn’t you bring the 
larger box? We might have had twice as much money 
as this. What a great stupid you are, to be sure ! ” And 
she went to bed angrier than ever. 

The poor old man now wished he had said nothing about 
the larger box; but, alas! it was too late. 

The following day was very sunshiny, so the old woman, 
who had made up her mind to go and get the larger box, 
asked her husband to tell her the way to the sparrow’s 
house. 

"My dear,” said the old man, "let us be contented. 
This is plenty for us to live upon until we die. Pray do 
not go, but let us be content.” 

" Contented ! ” shrieked his wife ; " indeed, if you are, 
148 


I am not, and so I am going/’ The greed of the cross 
old woman even made her forget her cruel deed in cut- 
ting off the little sparrow’s tongue. While the old woman 
was on the way, she thought of nothing else but the big 
box and the stacks of money which it contained. At last 
she arrived at the sparrow’s house. “Is this the tongue- 
cut sparrow’s house ? ” she snappishly asked one of the 
daughters who came to the door. 

“ I do not understand you,” replied the daughter, “ I 
shall call my mother.” So she called the little mother 
sparrow, whose tongue had been cut, who came out to 
greet the old woman. 

The “tongue-cut” sparrow was very polite to the old 
woman, but the latter cut the sparrow’s politeness short 
by saying, “you need not trouble to give me any tea or 
cakes, for I’m not coming into your house; all I came for 
is to get that larger box which my foolish husband left 
behind. Had I been offered two boxes, I should have taken 
both. Please give me the larger box at once.” 

“ Very well,” replied the little mother sparrow, “ just 
wait a moment ; ” so she told the servants to bring out the 
larger box. 

The greedy, cruel old woman, as soon as she saw the big 
box, seized it, and without even pausing to thank the 
Sparrow family for it, went rapidly away. The box was 
exceedingly heavy, and, as the old woman needed rest, she 
had often to sit down by the roadside and wait a little. 

“How lovely this box full of money will be,” said the 
selfish old woman to herself. “I shall have it all for 
myself. My husband shall not get a sen of it. But I am 
longing to open it, and I think I’ll just put it down un- 
der those pine trees yonder and open it. Yes ! I will do 
that.” 

So the greedy old woman carried the box to the clump 
of trees and opened it. Oh, what did she see? Money? 

149 * 


No. Precious stones? No. Beautiful clothes? No. 
What she saw nearly frightened her to death; for as soon 
as she lifted the lid, a number of awfully ugly and hor- 
rible-looking demons jumped out of the box with eyes of 
fire and fingers with long claws. Snakes coiled and hissed 
about her, and black lizards poked their long blue tongues 
at her. The demons yelled and jumped around her, and 
made dreadful faces. 

The old woman fell senseless to the ground, and after a 
time, when she gained consciousness, ran home as fast 
as her trembling legs could carry her. Arriving at her 
house, she fell in a faint on the floor, and lay there as if 
dead for many hours. At last, when she opened her eyes, 
she found her kind old husband sitting beside her and 
fanning her. 

She told the old man all that had happened to her, and 
how she had been punished for her greediness. “ Yes ! ” 
replied the old man, “you have brought all this on your- 
self by your cruel and selfish ways. I do sincerely trust 
that you will turn over a new leaf and repent of all your 
folly.” 

“ Yes,” said the old woman, “ I see I have been a cross- 
patch, a cruel and selfish woman, and I will henceforth 
try and live a better life.” 

From that day forward the old man and his wife lived 
peaceably together. They had plenty to live on from the 
treasures which the mother sparrow had given them. 
Their days were long and happy, and when the winter 
evenings came, the contented old couple would sit around 
the fire-box and talk about the days gone by, and their 
little brown friend, the tongue-cut sparrow. 


150 


THE NESS KING 


Borre, the knight of Egeskov, desiring to see his daughter 
Mette settled in life, determined to give a Brudeskue, a 
fete at which nobles, knights and esquires assembled, tilted 
with each other, rode at the ring, and paid court to the 
daughter of the house with costly presents. 

Now Mette was beautiful and possessed an amiable 
character, and for several days previous to the festivities 
the castle was crowded with guests, while fresh ones con- 
tinued to arrive, so that Borre knew not where to find room 
for all the visitors. 

The last day, just before the running at the ring com- 
menced, a young knight with a numerous retinue arrived 
at Egeskov. He was splendidly armed, and bore himself 
so proudly and arrogantly, that he looked with scorn on 
all those who were riding to the castle at the same time. 
Among these was an esquire named Ebbe, whose poverty 
was well known. He was mounted on a horse which had 
been a noble animal, but was now old and worn out. His 
armour, kirtle, and mantle had also seen better days, and 
were worn and mended. When Ebbe and Sir Olaf, the 
haughty knight, met, the latter jeered at and taunted the 
other; and when they arrived at the castle gate, Ebbe fell 
back while Sir Olaf and his retinue pressed forward in 
order to enter first. 

They rode at once to the race-course, where the eyes of 
all the dames and damsels were directed to Olaf, on ac- 
count of his handsome figure and costly equipment. Ebbe 
excited no notice, and remained a little behind the others, 
as though he disliked to expose his poverty. But when it 
came to running at the ring, he took three rings to Sir 
151 


Olaf’s one, and was the foremost of* all. After this they 
tried their skill at tilting, at which Ebbe was for a long 
time the most successful candidate, and he challenged Olaf, 
who had already unhorsed many knights; but at length 
he began to tire, and his worn-out horse tottered under 
him. Olaf, on the contrary, rode a noble steed, and had 
moreover changed his horse after riding at the ring. Ebbe 
fought bravely as long as he was able, but he was over- 
powered, and fell, and Olaf received the prize from 
the hand of Mette. 

In the evening all the guests assembled in the knights’ 
hall, where the different suitors entered, according to their 
rank and condition, bringing with them presents to Mette. 
The greater number brought costly gifts; but here also 
Olaf surpassed all others. Besides the splendid present 
he brought for Mette, he gave to the Knight Borre two 
small castles of embossed gold, saying : “ These two 

castles, of which you see a representation, belong to me, 
and I will share them with your daughter, if you will be- 
stow her upon me.” 

Last of all came Ebbe. The knights smiled on see- 
ing him, poor and meanly clad, without a gift, appear be- 
fore Borre. Ebbe deigned not to notice their contempt, 
but bent his knee before Mette, and said in a loud and 
audible voice: “I approach you last, as is befitting a 
poor man, who is so far beneath the other suitors in con- 
dition and wealth. I here lay at your feet the most pre- 
cious thing I own.” With these words he placed his sword 
on the ground before Mette. 

“ That’s no great thing to give away,” observed Olaf 
contemptuously, “ seeing that you have been so recently 
overpowered while you bore this sword in your hand.” 

“I hope, Sir Olaf,” said Ebbe, “that Mette may re- 
ceive my poor gift as surely as you would have suffered 
152 


defeat under this sword had our conditions been more 
evenly matched.” 

Several of the guests here interfered between the two 
rivals in order to make peace, and it was agreed among 
those assembled that Mette should have a month for con- 
sideration before making her choice. 

The following day there was a great hunt, and here, 
as at the tilting, every one was eager to show his skill. 
The ladies joined in the chase, and followed the deer with 
as much ardour as the men. Sir Olaf was foremost among 
the riders, and received many friendly looks from Mette. 
Ebbe was last of all. His horse had not yet recovered 
from the labours of the preceding day, and he would not 
force it; besides he did not mind being left behind the 
others. The hunt took its course farther and farther to- 
wards Trelde, when Ebbe, just as he was turning his horse 
into a cross path, saw Mette returning and coming to- 
wards him. After riding together a short way, Mette 
said: “I am tired of the pursuit, and will accompany 
you among these green trees. Why are you so far behind 
the others? Are you not fond of hunting?” “Yes, I 
am,” said Ebbe, “ but my poor horse is old and tired, and 
I must spare him.” 

“ I should think it would be better to part with him,” 
said Mette, “ than to be the last in jousts and other sports.” 

“ That I would not do willingly,” answered Ebbe ; “ this 
horse is all my father had to leave me; many years it 
carried him, and has done good service in its better days ; 
in reward for which I will cherish him out of my slender 
means, now that he is old.” 

“Do you know what I am thinking of, Ebbe?” said 
Mette. “I will make an exchange with you. Give me 
your horse, and you shall have mine instead; it is young 
and strong, and then you need no longer remain in the 
153 


background, when there is a striving who shall be fore- 
most.” 

“ That bargain,” replied Ebbe, “ you would hardly stand 
to, and my horse must be where I am; he is my greatest 
treasure.” 

“Then,” said Mette, “your words yesterday were but 
empty sounds, when you told me, you gave me the most 
valuable thing you owned.” 

Before Ebbe had time to answer, Mette urged on her 
horse, and rode from him into the wood. The following 
day all the knights took their departure from Egeskov, 
and were invited to return when a month had elapsed, in 
order that they might know whose gift Mette preferred, 
and, consequently, whom she chose for her husband. 
Mette stood on the balcony, and courteously greeted them 
as they passed ; but when Ebbe, the last of all, rode through 
the gate, she turned her head away and would not greet 
him. Dejected at the unlucky result of his visit, he took 
the rode back to Nebbegaard. When he reached the part 
of the wood where the shepherd from Egeskov was sitting 
tending his flock, he called him and said : “ Go and greet 

the fair Mette from Ebbe, and tell her, that when she 
offered to exchange horses with him yesterday, he refused, 
because he would not barter his steed; but that she may 
know he spoke only the truth, when he said he offered her 
the best thing he possessed, relate what thou hast seen 
him do.” Ebbe caressed his horse, and when the animal 
bent down his head on his master’s shoulder and neighed 
with joy, he exclaimed : “ I offer thee to Mette’s beauty.” 
At the same moment he drew his sword and killed the 
horse. Thus closed the “ Brudeskue ” at Egeskov. 

Almost all the knights that had been present felt con- 
vinced that Olaf would be the fortunate suitor with Mette 
and her father, on account of his youth, beauty, and manly 
accomplishments, and also because he was related to a 
154 


man of whom Borre would not willingly make an en- 
emy. 

On the point of Trelde, surrounded and concealed by 
a thick forest, there was at that time a castle belonging to 
a rich and powerful Ness king (or sea king), named 
Trolle. His reputation was so great and widespread, that 
there was not a tract of land in the whole country where 
he was not known, at least by name. From the beginning 
of spring until late in the winter he sailed along the 
coasts of J utland, Fuen, and Seeland, with his well-manned 
vessels, in order to plunder all the merchantmen he found; 
and not unfrequently landed on the coasts, wherever he 
saw there was an opportunity of carrying off any booty. 
Trolle was a man of such great strength and courage, that 
he had no need to rely on the number of his companions. 
He had frequently engaged single-handed against four, 
and always came off victorious. Although the Danish 
kings, even at that early period, sought to check these 
lawless men, who disturbed the peaceable inhabitants of 
the kingdom, and destroyed all confidence in commerce; 
yet there was no one bold enough to encounter Trolle. 
He laughed at the king’s laws, and cared but little for 
being proclaimed an outlaw. On the ocean he was mas- 
ter wherever his vessels appeared, and his castle at the 
Ness of Trelde was so well fortified and guarded that he 
never feared a surprise. 

The knight Borre, who was Trolle’s nearest neighbour, 
was not well pleased with this proximity, especially as he 
was often aggrieved by the many annoyances he had to 
submit to during the winter months, at which time the 
Ness king remained at his castle of Trelde. After en- 
during many vexations, he resolved on forming a plan to 
rid himself of his adversary, and just before Christmas 
sent a secret message to all his neighbours. They came, 
and it was settled among them that each should quietly 
155 


assemble as many of his followers as possible, and attack 
Trolle on the following New Year’s eve. When this was 
arranged, as well as the best method they could adopt 
for making the attack, they separated, and each returned 
home. 

But the evening after, when all the confederates were 
assembled at a Yule festivity in the neighbourhood, the 
Ness king and his men suddenly burst into the apartment, 
extinguished the lights, made prisoners of five of the 
knights, and bore them off to Trelde, where they were kept 
in durance, until they paid a very large ransom. No one 
could imagine how Trolle became acquainted with their 
plan; but certain it is, that from that time none of his 
neighbours thought any more of attacking him, consider- 
ing it more prudent to bear patiently with the annoyances 
to which he subjected them. 

Ebbe’s father had been one of the confederates, and 
his poverty was partly in consequence of the heavy ran- 
som he had been obliged to pay for the recovery of his 
liberty. One day, just before the festivities took place 
at Egeskov, Borre went out to hunt, and returned to- 
wards evening loaded with game. On coming to the 
boundary between Egeskov and Trelde, he met Trolle, 
who also had been out hunting on that day. “ Thanks 
for the past. Sir Borre,” said Trolle with a scornful 
laugh. “ You ride about here killing game in our woods, 
so that at last I must put a stop to it.” “ I have not been 
hunting on your domain, Trolle,” answered Borre; “ and 
the right of hunting here belongs to me.” “ It matters 
little to whom the right of hunting belongs,” answered 
Trolle; "for when you have destroyed all the game in 
your own woods, the deer will go from mine over to yours; 
but I think I shall be able to find a remedy for that, when 
I am so inclined. ‘ Those that stretch out furthest can 
embrace the most/ says an old proverb; but this time I 
156 


will not be so particular, as I hear that Olaf looks with a 
favourable eye on yonr daughter.” With these words the 
Ness king rode back to Trelde. Olaf was the son of the 
Ness king. 

To resume our story. After slaying his horse, Ebbe 
returned home to Nebbegaard. 

A week after this event, his servant came early one 
morning to tell him that a beautiful horse, ready saddled, 
stood fastened at the castle-gate, and no one knew to 
whom it belonged. Greatly surprised, Ebbe went out to 
look at the horse, which stood proudly and impatiently 
stamping on the ground. The rein was of crimson silk, 
on which was embroidered the old proverb : — “ A straight- 
forward difference is easiest settled.” — No sooner had 
Ebbe read these words than he understood their meaning, 
and felt pleased and happy in the thought that the horse 
came from Mette, and in the hope that her present raised 
in him. He led the horse into the castle, and passed the 
remainder of the time that Mette had required in riding 
and exercising it. 

At the expiration of the month, the knights again 
assembled at Egeskov to learn their fate. They were re- 
ceived with equal kindness by Borre and his daughter; 
and after their repast, the old knight conducted them into 
the great hall, where all the presents which they had 
brought on their former visits were displayed on a table. 
Mette walked at her father’s side into the apartment. To 
the surprise of all, she took up the sword of the poor 
esquire, kissed the hilt, and said: “As Ebbe has given 
me all that he owned, I will return gift for gift, and call 
him my husband.” No one present expected this. Ebbe 
fell on his knee before Mette, kissed her hand, and said: 
“ May heaven bless you, Mette, and grant that you may 
never repent those words, or of the happiness you bestow 
on so poor a man.” 


157 


Olaf could hardly control his anger at finding himself 
supplanted by an obscure esquire. Borre then came for- 
ward, and said to Mette: “ My daughter, as thou hast 
chosen him thou thinkest best of, I will now say a word 
which shall be carried into effect. The last time we were 
all assembled here, Ebbe had but little luck either in the 
tournament or the chase; to-morrow, therefore, at break 
of day, we will meet in the forest, and afford him an op- 
portunity of proving his manhood.” 

“’Tis well,” said Ebbe, “be it as you say; and when 
the chase is over, I will challenge each of Mette’s suitors 
to single combat with sharp or blunt lances, or with any 
weapon they may choose.” 

“ That challenge I accept,” answered Olaf angrily. 
“To-morrow we shall hunt, but the day after you shall 
do battle with me for life or death; and I will advise the 
Lady Mette, while we are away, to pray that heaven may 
grant her betrothed better luck than he had the last time 
our swords met.” 

“ Good luck will come when I stand in need of it,” 
answered Ebbe, “ and Mette can spare her prayers until she 
knows which of us two most requires them.” 

The next morning at sunrise, all the knights rode out 
into the forest, to strive which could bring home the 
largest quantity of game. This time Mette and the other 
ladies at the castle did not join in the hunt. Towards 
evening they came back, one after another, and showed 
Borre the result of their day’s sport. They had all as- 
sembled, with the exception of Olaf and Ebbe. Mette be- 
gan to be very uneasy; she wished most anxiously that 
Ebbe might bring the greatest share, and could not im- 
agine what detained him so long. At length she began to 
fear that he and Olaf had met each other in the forest, 
and had fought; but her father calmed her by saying that 
before they left in the morning for the chase, each had 
158 


pledged his word that they would not engage in combat 
at the hunt. 

At length, just as it was growing late, Olaf returned, 
and that day, as on the former occasion, his success had 
been greater than that of the others, and every one was 
now anxious to see what Ebbe would bring home with 
him. But the hours passed, and there were no tidings of 
him, and Borre gave the signal for the guests to go to the 
table. At the same moment the watchman’s horn was 
heard, and Ebbe came riding into the castle-yard, and 
greeted the company. "Well, Sir Ebbe,” cried Olaf, in 
a sarcastic tone, "where is your booty? It appears that 
you have been as fortunate this time as you were at the 
last hunt.” "Much game I certainly do not bring,” an- 
swered Ebbe coolly, "and what I have was hardly worth 
the trouble of bringing home; but at the chase, things go 
by chance, and one must take what one can get.” 

"Well! but let us see what you bring,” cried Borre, im- 
patiently. "Here it is,” said Ebbe, throwing aside his 
cloak, and casting a human head across the table to Olaf. 
" Do you know that head ? The crows in the forest are 
feeding on the carcase.” 

A cry of surprise was uttered by all the knights pres- 
ent, for in the distorted features each recognised the 
formidable sea-robber, the Hess king Trolle, Olaf’s father. 
Before the knights had recovered from their astonishment, 
Ebbe continued: "I have slain that lawless man. Sir 
Borre, in order to rid you of a troublesome neighbour, and 
in retribution for the wrong he did my father. To- 
morrow I will defend my deed against the knight Olaf, 
in whatever way he chooses.” 

But no combat took place between Ebbe and Olaf; for 
with the father’s death, the son’s courage departed, and 
he thought it not advisable to meet an adversary who had 
prevailed over the far-dreaded Hess king. 

159 


Olaf immediately departed from Egeskov and returned 
to Trelde. The following day he, together with all 
Trolle’s men, left their castle, and from that time were 
never seen or heard of more. Some said that Olaf had 
gone northward, and settled in Sallingland with his fol- 
lowers, while others thought he had quitted Denmark al- 
together. 

Ebbe’s valour gained him great consideration in Borre’s 
family; he and Mette lived happily together for many 
years. 


THE BEAUTIFUL PALACE EAST OF THE SUN 
AND NORTH OF THE EARTH 

There was once a man who dwelt in a forest. Near to 
his habitation there was a meadow of the finest grass. 
The man set a high value on this fertile meadow, regard- 
ing it as of greater worth than most of his other prop- 
erty. But in the summer mornings, at sunrise, it was 
often observed that the beautiful grass was trodden down, 
and in the dew there appeared marks like human foot- 
steps. At this the man was sorely vexed, and most de- 
sirous to find out who it was that trampled down his grass 
during the night. 

The peasant now considered with himself as to the 
course he should adopt, in order to get at the knowledge 
he desired to obtain, and resolved on sending his eldest 
son to keep watch in the meadow; but somehow or other 
he had not watched long before he felt very drowsy, and 
just as midnight drew nigh, he was wrapped in a deep 
sleep, from which he did not wake until the sun was 
standing high in the heavens. He then bent his steps 
toward home, after a fruitless errand; but the grass was 
trampled down as before. 


160 


The following night it was resolved that the peasant’s 
second son should go and keep watch in the meadow. He 
was not lacking in big words, and promised to bring back 
a big account. But, nevertheless, it fared with him as 
with his brother, for before he had watched for any length 
of time, he also felt drowsy and slept, and did not wake 
before bright daylight. Thus, after a fruitless errand, 
he likewise returned home, and the grass was trampled 
down as before. 

Seeing that these attempts had, contrary to expectation, 
proved so vain, the peasant resolved on taking no fur- 
ther steps in the matter, when his youngest son came to 
him and begged to be allowed to go to the meadow and 
keep watch. The father answered : “ It is not worth 

the trouble to let thee go who art so young; for it is not 
very probable that thou wilt watch better than thy 
brother.” But the youth said he would try his luck, and 
so his request was granted. He then proceeded to the 
meadow, although his father and brothers fancied they 
could pretty well foresee how his enterprise would 
terminate. 

After lying along on the watch, the lad could see noth- 
ing before the hour of matins, when the sun ;was just 
about rising. Then he heard on a sudden a noise in the 
air, as of birds flying, and three doves drew near and 
descended on the green meadow. After a while the doves 
laid aside their plumage and became three fair damsels, 
who immediately began dancing on the verdant field, and 
danced so delightfully that their feet seemed hardly to 
touch the grass. The youth was now at no loss to know 
who it was that trampled on his father’s meadow; though 
he scarcely knew what to think of the young maidens. 
But among them there was one who appeared to him more 
beautiful than all the other females, and it entered his 
mind that he would rather possess her than any other in 
161 


the world. After having for a while thus lain and amused 
himself with their dancing, he rose and stole away their 
plumages; then lay down again on the watch to see how 
the adventure would terminate. 

Early in the morning, soon after the sun had risen, the 
maidens finished their dance, and were preparing to de- 
part; but they could not find their plumages. At this 
they were seriously alarmed and ran to and fro on the 
meadow, until they came to the spot where the youth was 
lying. They asked whether he had taken their plumages, 
giving him fair words to induce him to deliver them up. 
The youth answered: "Yes, I have taken them, but I 
will not restore them except on two conditions.” Seeing 
that their entreaties availed them nothing, the maidens 
asked what the conditions were, promising to fulfil them. 
The youth then said : “ My first condition is that ye tell 
me who you are and whence you come.” One of them an- 
swered, “ I am a king’s daughter, and these are my court- 
attendants. We are from the Palace which lies east of 
the Sun and North of the Earth, whither nothing human 
may come.” The youth continued : “ My second condi- 

tion is, that the king’s daughter plights me for honour 
and faith, and fixes a day for our marriage; for her or 
no other in the wide world will I possess.” As the day 
was now advancing, and the sun already shining on the 
tops of the trees, the maiden was compelled to submit to 
this condition. The youth then plighted his troth to the 
young princess, and they promised to be always faithful 
to each other. He then gave back the three plumages, and 
bade his beloved farewell, who with her companions, soared 
aloft in the air, and pursued their course homewards. 

When it was full day, the youth proceeded towards home, 
where he had to hear a multitude of questions respecting 
the wonderful things he might have seen or heard during 
the night. But he spoke very little, saying only that he 
162 


had fallen asleep, without having discovered anything. 
For this he was jeered by his brothers, who made a joke 
of him for having fancied that he could succeed better 
than they, who were in every respect his superiors. 

Some time had now passed, and the day arrived, which 
the king’s daughter had fixed for the marriage. The youth 
then went to his father, and requested him to make 
preparations for a feast, and to invite all their friends 
and relations. The father allowed his son to manage all 
as he thought proper; and so a grand feast was prepared 
with no lack of good cheer. When the hour of midnight 
drew nigh and the guests were beginning to be merry, a 
loud noise was heard on a sudden without the apartment 
in which they were assembled, and a magnificent chariot 
approached, drawn by mettlesome horses. In the chariot 
sat the fair princess clad as a bride, attended by her two 
courtmaidens. Now there was great wondering among all 
the guests, as may easily be imagined. But the young 
man received his bride with joy, and related to the guests 
his adventure during the night when he was watching his 
father’s meadow. Thereupon the healths of bride and 
bridegroom were drunk with pleasure and gaiety, and all 
who saw the young bride pronounced the youth fortunate 
in having made such a marriage. 

Early in the morning, and before dawn, the princess 
said that she must depart. At this the bridegroom was 
grieved, and asked her why she could not grant him yet 
one short hour of delight. The princess answered : “ My 
father, who ruled over the beautiful palace that lies east 
of the sun and north of the earth, was slain by a Troll, 
by whom I am held in strict captivity, so that I cannot 
enjoy any liberty, save for a short time at midnight. If 
I am not back before sunrise, my life is at stake.” When 
the youth had heard this, he would no longer detain his 
bride, but bade her farewell, adding fervent wishes for 
163 


her happiness. At her departure the princess gave him 
a gold ring as a remembrance, and the court-damsels gave 
him each a gold apple. They then mounted their gilded 
chariot and drove away with all speed. 

From that day the youth enjoyed no rest, he was con- 
stantly thinking how he could reach the beautiful palace 
that lay east of the 6un and north of the earth. In this 
state of mind he went one day to his father, and prayed 
to be allowed to travel in search of his bride. The old 
man told him he might follow his own inclinations ; though 
his journey could hardly be attended with success. The 
youth then took leave of his relations and departed from 
home alone. 

He journeyed now over mountains and through verdant 
valleys, over many extensive kingdoms, but could get no 
tidings of the beautiful palace. One day he came to a 
very large forest, in which he heard a loud noise, and on 
drawing near to the spot whence it proceeded, he saw 
two giants, who were engaged in a violent quarrel. He 
said to them: “Why do you, two giants, stand here 
quarrelling with each other?” One of them answered: 
“ Our father is dead, and we have divided the inheritance 
between us; but here is a pair of boots, which we cannot 
agree which of us shall have.” The youth said : “ I will 

settle your dispute. If you cannot agree, give the boots 
to me. I am a traveller, and have a long way to go.” 
The giant answered : “ All that thou sayest may be true ; 
but these are no common boots; for whoever has them on 
can go a hundred miles at one step.” When the youth 
heard this, he was eager to possess such valuable boots, 
and told the giants it would be much better to make him a 
present of them, and then they would have nothing to 
quarrel about. In short, he put his words so well to- 
gether that the giants thought his advice was good, and 
gave him the boots. The young man then drew on the 
164 


boots, with which he could go a hundred miles at every 
step, and travelled further, far away into many strange 
lands. 

After having thus journeyed for some time, he came 
to another forest, in which he heard another noise and 
uproar. On advancing, he again saw two giants engaged 
in a violent altercation. He said: “Why do you, two 
giants, stand here wrangling with each other ? ” One of 
them answered : “ Our father is dead, and we are divid- 

ing his property, but we cannot agree which of us shall 
have this cloak.” The youth said: “I will settle your 
dispute. If you cannot agree, give me the cloak. I am a 
traveller, and have a long way to go.” The giant an- 
swered: “What thou sayest may be very true; but this 
cloak is not like other cloaks; for whoever puts it on be- 
comes invisible.” On hearing this the youth was seized 
with a strong desire to possess 60 precious a cloak, and 
said that the giants could not do better than give it to 
him; for then they would have nothing to quarrel about. 
This the giants thought excellent advice, and they gave 
him the cloak. So the youth got the cloak which ren- 
dered him invisible, and pursued his journey far far away 
into foreign lands. 

When he had travelled a considerable time, he came 
again to a vast forest, in which he heard a great noise and 
uproar. On advancing, he again saw two giants engaged 
in a violent dispute. On inquiring why they stood there 
wrangling, one of them said : “ Our father is dead, and 
we have been dividing the inheritance. But we cannot 
settle to which of us this sword shall belong.” The youth 
said : “ I will settle your difference. If you cannot agree, 

make me a present of the sword. I am a traveller, and 
have a long way to go.” The giant answered: “What 
thou sayest may be quite true; but this sword is not like 
other swords; whoever is touched with its point dies in- 
165 


stantly; but if he is touched by the hilt, he immediately 
returns to life.” When the youth heard this, he was 
seized with a most vehement desire to possess so precious 
a sword, and told the giants, that if they were wise they 
would give it to him ; for then they would have nothing to 
quarrel about. This he expressed to such purpose that 
the giants thought it excellent advice and gave him the 
sword. The youth then hung the precious sword by his 
side, drew the hundred-mile boots on his legs, put the 
wonderful cloak about his shoulders, and seemed to be 
well equipped for his journey. 

One evening, after dark, he found himself in a vast 
desert, that seemed to have no end. Casting his eyes on 
every side to discover a lodging for the night, he descried 
a little light glimmering among the trees. On approach- 
ing it, he found it proceeded from a little cot, in which 
dwelt a very very old woman who seemed to have seen as 
many ages of man as others see years. 

The youth entered, greeted her courteously, and asked 
whether he could have a shelter for the night. When the 
old woman heard him speak, she said : “ Who art thou 

that comest and greetest me so kindly? Here have I 
dwelt while twelve oak forests have grown up and 
twelve oak forests have withered; but until now no 
one has ever come who greeted me so kindly.” The 
youth answered: “I am a poor traveller, who am in 
search of the beautiful palace east of the sun and north of 
the earth. You can probably direct me to it, dear 
Mother.” “ No,” said she, “ that I cannot, but I rule over 
the beasts of the field; there may perchance be among 
them one or other that may put thee in the right way.” 
The youth thanked her for her kindness, and stayed the 
night over. 

Early in the morning, as the sun was just rising, the 
old woman summoned her subjects to assemble. Then 
166 


came running out of the forest all kinds of beasts, bears, 
wolves and foxes, inquiring what their queen’s pleasure 
might be. The old woman said that she wished to know 
whether there were any among them who knew the way 
to the beautiful palace east of the sun and north of the 
earth. Hereupon the beasts held a long consultation, but 
not one could give any information about the beautiful 
palace. The old dame then said to the youth: “I can 
give thee no further aid; but many thousand miles from 
here my sister dwells, who rules over the fishes in the 
sea; she can, perhaps, give thee the desired information.” 
The youth then bade the old woman farewell, thanked 
her for her good counsel, and proceeded on his jour- 
ney. 

After travelling a very long way, he again found him- 
self late one evening in a vast desert. On looking about 
for a shelter, he perceived a light glimmering among the 
trees. On approaching it, he found that it issued from 
a small and very ruinous cottage standing on the sea-shore, 
in which sat a very very old woman, who appeared to have 
lived as many ages of man as others live changes of the 
moon. The youth stepped in, greeted the old dame from 
her sister, and asked whether he might stay there that 
night. When the old woman had heard him speak, she 
said : “ Who art thou that comest hither and greetest me 

so courteously? I have seen four-and-twenty oak woods 
grow up, and four and twenty wither, but until now 
no one has ever come hither who has greeted me 
so kindly.” The youth answered: “I am a poor 
traveller in search of the beautiful palace east and north 
of the earth, whither no human being may come. You, 
dear mother, can perhaps, direct me in the way.” “No,” 
said the old woman, “that I cannot; but I rule over the 
fishes in the sea, and among them there may probably be 
one or other that can give thee the information thou de- 
167 


sirest.” The young man thanked her for her kindness 
and stayed the night over. 

Early in the morning as soon as it was light, the old 
dame summoned a meeting of her subjects. Thither come 
all the fishes of the sea, whales, pike, salmon, and flounders, 
and asked what might be their queen’s commands. The 
old woman said, she wished to ascertain whether any 
among them knew the way to the beautiful palace east of 
the sun and north of the earth, whither no one may go. 
The fishes then held a long consultation, the result of 
which not one of them could give any information about 
the beautiful palace. Thereupon the old dame said to 
the youth: “Thou seest that I can give thee no further 
help ; but I have another sister, who dwells many thousand 
miles from here, and rules over the fowls of the air. Go 
to her ; if she cannot direct thee, there is no one who can.” 
The youth then bade the old woman farewell, and re- 
sumed his journey. 

When he had travelled a very long way further many 
many thousand miles, he found himself late one evening, 
in a vast desert, that seemed to he boundless. On look- 
ing abound for a lodging, he perceived a little light glim- 
mering among the trees. On approaching it, he found it 
proceeded from a small ruiness cottage on a mountain, 
in which there dwelt a very very old woman, who seemed to 
have lived as many ages of man as others live days. The 
youth entered, greeted the old dame from her sisters, and 
asked whether he could have a lodging fo»r the night. 
When the old dame heard him speak, she said: “Who 
art thou that comest hither with so kind a greeting ? Here 
have I seen eight-and-forty o*ak forests grow up, and 
eight-and-forty wither, but until now no one has ever 
come who greeted me so kindly.” The youth then said: 
“ I am a poor traveller, in search of the beautiful palace 
east of the sun and north of the earth, whither no human 
168 


being may come. You, dear mother, can perhaps direct 
me thither.” “ No,” said the old woman, “ that I cannot, 
but as I rule over the birds of the air, perhaps there is one 
or other among them that can give thee the desired in- 
formation.” The youth thanked the old woman for her 
kindness, and stayed there the night over. 

Early in the morning, before the cock had crowed, the 
old woman summoned her subjects to an assembly. Then 
came flying all the fowls of heaven, eagles, swans and 
hawks, and asked what might be their queen’s commands. 
The old woman told them that she had summoned them 
to assemble, because she wished to learn whether any one 
among them knew the way to the beautiful palace east of 
the sun and north of the earth. The birds thereupon held a 
long consultation, the result of which was, that not one 
could give any information about the beautiful palace. 
The old dame then appeared vexed, and said: “Are ye 
all assembled? I do not see the phoenix.” She received 
for answer, that the phoenix was not yet come. After 
waiting for some time, they saw the beautiful bird come 
flying through the air, but so fatigued that it could hardly 
move its wings, and sank down on the earth. Now there 
was joy throughout the assembly that the phoenix had 
arrived; but the old dame was very angry and demanded 
to know why it had kept them so long waiting. It was 
some time before the poor bird could recover itself, and 
then, in a humble tone, it said: “Be not angry that I 
have tarried so long; but I have flown a very long way. 
I have been in a far distant land in a beautiful palace, 
which lies east of the sun and north of the earth.” On 
hearing this the queen was quite appeased, and said: 
“ This must be thy punishment, that thou once again go 
to the beautiful palace, and take this youth with thee on 
the journey.” The bird thought that this was rather a 
hard condition; but it had no alternative. The youth 
169 


then bade the old dame farewell, and seated himself on 
the bird’s back, which then soared aloft, flying over 
mountains and valleys, over the blue sea and the green 
forests. 

When they had thus journeyed a considerable time the 
bird said : “ Young man, seest thou anything ? ” “ Yes,” 

answered the youth, “ I think I perceive a blue cloud far 
away in the horizon.” “That is the country to which 
we are going,” said the bird. They had now travelled a 
very long way, and evening was coming on, when the 
phoenix again said : “ Young man, seest thou anything? ” 

“Yes,” answered the youth, “I see a speck in the blue 
cloud which glitters brightly like the sun itself.” The 
bird said : “ That is the palace to which we are pro- 

ceeding.” They still continued journeying on, and night 
was drawing near, when the phoenix said a third time: 
“Young man, seest thou anything?” “Yes,” said the 
youth, “ I see a vast palace resplendent all over with gold 
and silver.” “Now we are arrived,” said the bird, de- 
scending near the beautiful structure, and setting the 
youth down on the earth. The youth thanked the bird for 
his great trouble, and the phoenix then returned through 
the air to the place whence it had come. 

At midnight, when all the Trolls lay in deep sleep, the 
youth went to the palace gate and knocked; whereupon 
the princess sent her attendant to inquire who it was that 
came so late. When the damsel came to the gate, the 
youth threw to her a golden apple, and prayed for ad- 
mission. The damsel instantly recognised the apple, and 
at once knew who had knocked at the gate. She there- 
upon hastened to her mistress with these glad tidings. 
But the princess would not believe that her story was 
true. 

The king’s daughter now sent her other attendant, and 
when she came to the gate, the youth threw to her the 
170 


other golden apple. She also immediately knew her apple 
again, and full of joy hastened to tell her mistress who 
it was outside the gate. Still the princess would not be- 
lieve what they had told her, but went to the gate herself, 
and asked who it was that had knocked. The youth then 
handed to her the ring which she had given him. Now she 
knew that her bridegroom had come; she therefore opened 
the gate and received him with great love and delight, as 
every one may easily imagine. 

The youth then placing himself by the side of his fair 
bride, they chatted together all night. At the approach 
of morning, the king’s daughter appeared in deep afflic- 
tion and said : “ We must part. For the sake of all that 
is dear to thee, hasten hence before the Trolls wake; else 
thy life is at stake.” Bride and bridegroom then took 
leave of each other, and the princess let fall many tears. 
The youth, however, would not flee, but put on his cloak, 
drew on his hundred-mile boots, girded his precious sword 
by his side and prepared him for a contest with the 
Trolls. 

Early in the morning there was great life and bustle in 
all the palace. The gates were opened, and the Trolls 
entered one after another. But the youth stood in the 
entrance with drawn sword, so that when the Trolls ap- 
proached he was quite ready for them, and struck off their 
heads before they were aware of him. There was, con- 
sequently, a bloody game, which was not concluded until 
every Troll had found his death. When the day was ad- 
vanced, the king’s daughter sent her maidens to get tidings 
how the contest had ended. They returned with the in- 
formation that the youth was alive, but that all the Trolls 
were slain. At this news the fair princess was overjoyed; 
for it now appeared to her that she had overcome all her 
sorrows. 

When the first joy was over, the princess said: “Now 

171 


our happiness is so great that it can hardly be greater; if 
only I could get back my relatives.” The youth an- 
swered : “ Show me where they lie buried, and I will see 

whether I cannot help them.” They thereupon went to 
the spot where the father of the princess and her other 
relations were laid ; when the youth touching each with the 
hilt of his sword, they were all quickened one after another. 
When they had thus come again to life, there were great 
rejoicings in the palace, and all thanked the youth for hav- 
ing restored them. The relations of the princess then 
took the youth for their king, and the fair maiden was 
his queen. The youth ruled his realm prosperously, and 
lived to a good old age surrounded by his friends. His 
queen bore him brave sons and fair daughters, and thus 
they lived in peace and happiness all their days. 

Here ends the tale of the beautiful palace east of the 
sun and north of the earth, from which may be learned 
the truth of the old adage, that true love overcomes every- 
thing. 


THE APPLES OF VENUS 

Long, long ago there lived in the sunny land of Greece a 
beautiful maiden named Atalanta. Her face was very 
fair, but perhaps her greatest beauty lay in the grace and 
agility of her form, and she was so fleet of foot that it was 
impossible to find any one who could run so fast as she. 

Atalanta was a princess, and her father was a king 
named Schoeneus, but she had a strange, uncared-for child- 
hood, and in consequence grew up with a hard, unloving 
nature. She was cruel because it never occurred to her to 
be otherwise, and because as yet nothing had ever touched 
her heart. 

When she was born, her father, King Schoeneus, was not 
172 



“ The Princess could not believe what they told her, but 

went to the gate herself” 























































































pleased, because he had wished that all his children should 
be boys, and his own nature was so cruel and evil that he 
ordered the baby girl to be taken out into the forest, and 
to be left exposed to the weather and the wild beasts. No 
more was heard of the baby for many a day, but she did 
not perish, as it was expected she would. A mother bear 
found her lying there helpless and alone, and having a 
kinder heart than that of Atalanta’s own father, she nursed 
the child along with her own cubs. 

For a time Atalanta was brought up by this rough nurse 
and among these strange play-fellows; then while she was 
still an infant, some peasants who lived near the wood 
killed the bear, and finding the baby girl among the cubs, 
took her home with them. So Atalanta grew up as a wild 
creature of the woods, ready to 6lay animals with her bow 
and arrow, very fleet of foot and agile of form, as has been 
said, and of great loveliness, but cruel and merciless in 
character. 

One day, when she was a full-grown maiden, some sud- 
den impulse led her to make her way to the royal city 
where King Schoeneus dwelt. There the king chanced to 
see her, and was much struck with her beauty. Thereupon 
he had her brought into his presence, and caused full in- 
quiries to be made as to her birth and parentage. The re- 
sult was that he discovered her to be his own daughter who 
was said to have perished 60 many years ago. Now that 
she was full grown and, moreover, of so favourable an 
appearance, the king repented of his former evil design, 
and acknowledged her as his daughter; and he thought that 
she might make a great marriage, and thus, after all, in- 
crease the power and prosperity of his house quite as much 
as if she had been the heir to his throne. 

So Atalanta exchanged her wild woodland life for the 
splendour of her father’s palace, but her untamed, savage 
nature was not changed. Before long, rumours of her 
173 


surpassing loveliness spread to surrounding lands, and 
from far and wide suitors came who wished to marry her, 
partly because of the reports of her beauty, and partly 
because she was the daughter of a king; and when they 
saw her for themselves they wished to marry her more 
than ever. But Atalanta laughed them all to scorn, and 
would not hear of marriage. Then, when her father spoke 
to her in wrath, and told her that she might choose which 
of the suitors she would wed, but that one or other of 
them must be her husband, she declared that if this must be 
so, she should at least have the right to put their love to a 
test of her own choosing. To this Schoeneus consented, 
and with a mocking smile upon her face, Atalanta de- 
scribed what the test was to be. 

“ The man who wishes to wed me must first run a race 
with me,” she said. “ If he outstrip me, then will I marry 
him; but if, on the other hand, he is beaten, he must pay 
the penalty with his death.” 

As Atalanta had fully expected, the last part of these 
conditions caused the number of her suitors to decrease 
very rapidly, but at the same time there were still many 
youths so much struck by her beauty as to be willing to 
risk even their lives to win her. One after another en- 
tered the race, but each time Atalanta reached the win- 
ning-post first, and with cruel indifference watched the 
death of the vanquished suitor. 

One day a certain prince, named Milanion, came by 
chance to the city where Atalanta dwelt. His father was 
king of a state situated at some distance from that of King 
Schoeneus, and he did not happen to have heard of 
Atalanta and the cruel test to which she put her suitors. 
He had set out on a hunting expedition, which led him 
far from home, into the heart of a great forest, and where 
he had lost his way, and had come out at last on a side of the 
forest which overlooked the royal city of King Schoeneus. 

174 


When Milanion saw its towers and pinnacles gleam be- 
neath him in the light of the afternoon sun he decided to 
seek shelter there for the night. 

Everything seemed to speak of cheerful prosperity as he 
wended his way through the fields and lanes near to the 
city. It was springtime, and in the fields rustic labourers 
were busy tending the blossoming vines or ploughing the 
brown earth ready for the seed. Above him the air was 
filled with the song of many birds, and by the wayside 
bloomed many a fresh and fragrant flower. When he 
reached the city itself, he found the great gates thrown wide 
open, and he was allowed to enter the streets, stranger as he 
was, without being stopped to answer any inquiry as to his 
name and country ; so evidently the city was, as he thought, 
enjoying peace, and he would run no danger in seeking the 
hospitality of its citizens. 

Milanion had not gone far down the quiet streets be- 
fore he came to a crowd of people all hurrying in one di- 
rection; and his curiosity being excited by this, he fell in 
with them and followed where they led. 

Soon he came to an open space where a strange sight 
met his gaze. At one end of it sat King Schoeneus him- 
self on a very fine throne, and in gorgeous array, sur- 
rounded by his councillors. Beneath the throne were two 
statues, one of gold representing Apollo, the god of the 
sun, and one of silver representing his sister Diana, god- 
dess of the moon and of the chase. Beneath these again 
was an altar, from which rose a thin, blue flame, and at 
a little space from the altar stood two men. One was a 
herald clothed in gorgeous attire holding his horn in his 
hand ready to blow a blast upon it. The office of the 
other was less easy to discover. He was a man of great 
size and in his hand he held a sword the blade of which 
was intwined with yellow flowers. 

When Milanion turned his wondering eyes from this 
175 


spectacle, he saw that a race was about to be run; for at 
what seemed to be the starting-point stood two figures 
evidently waiting for the signal to begin. One of these 
was a girl, and it was upon her that Milanion’s eyes rested. 
She stood with her eyes fixed on the winning-point, and 
her whole demeanour was one of absolute composure, in 
marked contrast, as Milanion noticed, to the anxious, eager 
expression of her rival. As he looked at her, Milanion 
thought that never before had he seen any one so beautiful. 

But Atalanta did not even see him as he stood watching 
her. She had apparently no thought for anything but the 
race she was about to run, and the next minute there rang 
out a blast from the trumpet, and she and the young man 
started. For the first part of the race they kept so closely 
together that none could say who the winner would be, 
but as they passed the post which marked half the course 
a cry of joy arose from the surrounding crowd as the 
youth gained on the maiden. Louder grew the shouts, for 
now the winning-post was almost reached and still 
Atalanta was behind; but when the youth, already feeling 
the joy of victory in his heart, turning for one moment to 
see how far behind he had left his opponent, she made a 
sudden bound forward, and laid her hand on the winning- 
point before he could reach it. 

The race was over, and Milanion expected to see noth- 
ing more, yet he could not but wonder at the anguish in 
the pale face of the youth, who, it would seem, was taking 
his defeat very sorely to heart. And now the duty of the 
man with the sword was to be revealed to him. 

Its blade was quickly stripped of its flowers, and with 
one last despairing glance at Atalanta the youth knelt down 
before the swordsman. The next moment the sharp blade 
had descended, and his brave young life was ended. But 
Atalanta moved calmly away, untouched apparently by 
this sad spectacle. 


176 


The crowd now began to disperse or break up into little 
knots, discussing all that had taken place; and Milanion 
mixed with the people until he had heard all the story, 
and understood the objects and conditions of the race he 
had just seen. 

But all that he had heard did not quench the strong 
desire which had now taken possession of Milanion’s heart 
that this cruel maiden should he won by himself, and be- 
come his wife. 

He left the city and wandered far away, and did many 
great deeds, and won renown and wealth. Then he re- 
turned and presented himself to the King as a suitor for 
Atalanta’s hand. But so brave, and strong, and hand- 
some did he appear that Schoeneus himself was touched at 
the thought of him being sacrificed. Little hope indeed 
was there of any other fate for him should he enter the 
race against Atalanta; for she still out-distanced all com- 
petitors, and since the race which Milanion had witnessed, 
many other brave youths had fallen as victims to her cruel 
vow. 

Schoeneus told all this to Milanion, and advised him to 
leave the city forthwith and choose some other maiden for 
his wife, though had the fates willed it, the King would 
gladly have welcomed so brave and handsome a prince as 
his son-in-law. It was impossible, however, to turn 
Milanion from his purpose, and the only condition to 
which he would consent was that another month should 
elapse before he entered for the race, and he said that the 
time would be spent by him in supplicating the gods for 
victory. So once more Milanion set out on his wander- 
ings; for though Schoeneus had urged him to remain as 
his guest, he felt too restless to pass the month of waiting 
in idleness and fruitless repose. 

In the course of his travels it happened that he came 
one day to a certain temple dedicated to Venus, the god- 
177 


dess of love, which stood amid myrtle trees on a lonely 
stretch of coast. When he saw it, Milanion thought that 
if he prayed to Venus there, she would help him, since 
she of all the gods and goddesses was the one to whom his 
sad plight would surely make the most direct appeal. He 
accordingly landed and found his way to the temple, where 
he first represented costly gifts to the priests who guarded 
it, and then entered the building itself, where an altar 
burned before a white marble image of the goddess. Here 
Milanion appealed to the goddess, saying that if she would 
but give him victory in the coming contest, he would ask 
for nothing more, for he loved the maiden with all his 
heart, and it was not for the wealth that she would bring 
him that he sought her. If he might but win her he would 
gladly forego all other delights and worldly advantages for 
her sake. 

Now it pleased Venus to find one who worshipped her in 
so true and acceptable a spirit, and she determined to help 
Milanion to gain the reward he sought. But she did not 
tell him so. She knew that it would be well for him to 
learn a lesson of patience, and she wished also to test him 
and to see how long he would continue to worship her 
without a sign. 

All through that day Milanion knelt in the temple, nor 
when night came did he leave it. The slow hours passed 
by, but he still implored Venus for help, and at the dawn 
he sank on the floor in a sleep of utter exhaustion. This 
did not last long, however, for a sudden light awoke him, 
and when he turned his eyes in its direction, a great joy 
and hope came into his heart; for the light was from 
neither sun nor moon. It seemed more like a very bright 
cloud which drew near to him across the sea, and the 
nearer it came the greater became Milanion’s feeling of 
elation, until at last his happy eyes beheld the picture 
of Venus herself before him. 

178 


“Do not fear, Milanion,” she said softly. 

“ It is possible that you may win this maid whose heart 
seems dead, if you will do as I tell you. Look at my feet 
and you will see that I have dropped three golden apples. 
These are fruit of my own growing and nurture, and 
they have this power, that those who once see them care 
for them more than for anything else they have possessed 
before. For they are love’s own gifts. Now take these 
with you hidden on your person, and when the race has 
begun, drop one near to Atalanta. She will pause to seize 
it, and thus you will have a moment’s advantage and gain 
on her. And if needs be, drop the other two each in like 
fashion, and take advantage of what may happen. Now 
farewell, and when the happy hour of your triumph comes, 
spare a thought for her who helped you win it.” 

With these last words the goddess vanished, and 
Milanion would have thought the whole thing a dream, 
but on the white steps of the temple there gleamed the 
three golden apples of which she had spoken. He picked 
them up with eager, trembling fingers, and tied them in 
his tunic. Then with joy and hope in his heart he turned 
his steps once more to the city of King Schoeneus. 

The month of waiting had gone by, and Milanion stood 
side by side with Atalanta on the race-course waiting for 
the signal to begin, while an anxious crowd stood round, 
eager yet fearful to see the result; for none wished the 
brave young stranger to perish like the rest. Only 
Atalanta was calm and unmoved. But just before the 
start a slight change might have been seen to come over 
her countenance. She had turned to look at the man at 
her side, and something she saw of confidence in his face 
caused an unusual tremor to pass over her. Milanion 
returned her glance, and a strange feeling took possession 
of Atalanta as she read in his face an expression of mas- 
tery mixed with a certain triumphant happiness, and with 
179 


a tender admiration for herself. She was startled to feel 
sorrow for his approaching death, for never before had pity 
for one of her suitors touched her heart, and she asked her- 
self impatiently what it meant. 

But now the blast of the horn was heard and the race 
had begun. There was no longer time for Atalanta to 
think of anything but victory, and alert, eager, and agile, 
she sprang forward, leaving Milanion behind. Then with- 
out slackening his pace Milanion placed his hand in his 
tunic and drew out of it one of the golden apples, which 
he rolled along the course in front of Atalanta. Its bright, 
shining surface at once attracted her attention, and it 
seemed to her as it rolled before her that some god or 
goddess must have flung it as a gift at her feet. Spring- 
ing out of the course after it, she stooped, grasped it 
eagerly, and placed it in her bosom. 

While she did this, Milanion had sprung ahead, and 
again mindful of the race she pressed on swifter than 
before. Just as the turning-post was reached she over- 
took him. But once more at her feet there rolled a golden 
apple, and Atalanta again, unable to resist the temptation, 
paused to place it beside the first in her bosom. Now 
when she saw Milanion again well in front of her, her 
glance became troubled, but the winning-post was still some 
distance away, and by putting on extra speed she again 
overtook him. 

The end of the course was almost reached, when 
Milanion threw down his last golden apple, and as 
Atalanta once more paused to seize it the race was lost for 
her. A strange, unwonted sense of fatigue oppressed her 
as she strove to cover the last few yards, her eyes grew dim, 
tremors seized her limbs, and now she was surely about to 
fall. But she did not fall; as she tottered to the goal a 
pair of strong arms received her, and a pair of warm lips 
were pressed upon her own. 

180 


“You are conquered at last, cruel Atalanta,” said a 
strong voice. 

And the maiden answered in a low voice, — 

“ Surely never was conquest so sweet as this defeat ! ” 
So the altar was pulled down, the sword which had done 
so much cruel work was broken, and preparations were 
made for a joyful marriage. But of all the changes the 
greatest was that in Atalanta herself, for the golden gift 
from Venus had completely transformed her from a cruel, 
heartless maiden into a true and loving woman. 


SAINT CHRISTOPHER 

There was once a man named Offero, so tall and strong 
that he stood among his fellows as a sturdy oak in a grove 
of saplings. His eyes were keen and clear as some great 
eagle’s, his lips spoke nothing but gentle words, and his 
heart was gentle and pure as a little child’s. His spirit 
was brave and fearless, and while he was yet in the prime 
of his strength he resolved to devote it to some good pur- 
pose. 

“ My friends,” he said, when he had called together his 
companions, “ I must leave you now, for something within 
me whispers that I was born to serve a king so great that 
fear is unknown to him ; a king to whom all men bow.” 

Then he strode away into the forest, and was seen by them 
no more. 

For many a day he traversed valley and mountain, in- 
quiring of all he met who was the greatest king. At last 
he came to a splendid country, where reigned a monarch 
of high renown. His armies were vast and powerful, and 
his fleet of warships was like a flock of birds bearing death 
on their grim brown wings. When he was told that Offero 
181 


desired to serve him, he welcomed him gladly, and liked 
the young man so well that he soon made him his trusted 
counsellor and friend. 

It was Offero’s pride to see how all men trembled at his 
master’s frown, and he could not believe that there lived 
a greater monarch than he. One day, however, when the 
king was present, a courtier made some remark about the 
“ Evil One”; his Majesty’s august brow grew pale, and 
Offero could have sworn he saw his stern lips quiver. 
Pained and surprised, he humbly asked the king why he 
trembled. 

“I am afraid of the Devil,” said that monarch, “ al- 
though I fear no mortal man. He is the King of Hades, 
and more powerful than I.” 

“Then I must leave you, 0 King!” cried Offero with 
haste, “since I have vowed to serve none other than the 
most powerful monarch in existence.” And sorrowfully 
he turned away. 

“ Where is the Devil ? ” he asked the first man he met. 

“He is everywhere,” returned the traveller, looking 
around uneasily; and this was the usual answer that 
Offero received to his enquiry. Wherever he went men 
looked uneasy at the Devil’s name, but would not say 
where Offero was likely to meet with him. 

He found him at last among a group of idle men and 
maidens on the village green, and hailed him as his mas- 
ter. The Devil was glad to have so strong a follower, 
and amused himself by showing the astonished giant his 
power over rich and poor. There seemed to be no limit 
to his might; he swayed the nobles in their velvet robes, 
and the peasants in their tattered garments. 

“ He is indeed the master of the world,” sighed Offero, 
and though he liked not the Devil’s ways, he stifled his 
distaste that he might keep his word. 

182 


One day his master led him through the outskirts of the 
town into the open country. 

“ We are going to visit a hermit,” he said with a burst of 
laughter. “He has left the town to be quit of me, but 
he will find me in his cave!” 

Before Offero could ask him what he meant to do with 
the good hermit, they came to a turn where four roads 
met. A rough wind swayed the branches of the trees, and 
a peal of thunder echoed among the lofty hills. It was 
neither wind nor thunder, however, that made the Devil 
tremble, but the sight of a wooden cross which some pious 
folk had erected here. With gaunt arms pointing east 
and west it stood immovable; the rain beat down on it 
unmercifully, as if to cleanse it from the roadside dust; 
and turning his head away that he might not see it, the 
Devil hastened past. Hot until it was far behind them 
had Offero an opportunity of asking why he had trembled. 

“ I was afraid,” answered his grim companion, with an- 
other shudder. 

“Afraid?” repeated Offero in puzzled tones. “Why, 
what was there to be afraid of?” 

“ Did you not see the crucifix ? ” cried the Devil impa- 
tiently. “ The figure on it is that of the Christ, and that 
is why I trembled.” 

The giant had never heard that Holy name before, and 
felt more perplexed than ever as he demanded : “ Who is 
this Christ whom you so fear?” 

“ He is the King of Heaven,” was the reluctant reply. 

“Is he more powerful, then than you?” persisted Of- 
fero, planting himself in the centre of the pathway so that 
his master could not pass on. 

“ He is more powerful even than I ! ” admitted the 
Devil, his eyes becoming points of fire. 

“Then I shall serve HIM, and Him only,” the giant 
183 


cried, and, turning on his heel, he left the Devil to go on 
his way alone. 

When Offero reached the cross once more, a man was 
kneeling before it in prayer. As he rose from his knees, 
Offero asked him the way to Heaven. 

“ I cannot tell you/’ said the man. “ The way is long, 
and hard to find. ? Tis well that Christ is merciful.” 

Offero met with like answers from many wayfarers 
whom he questioned, hut at last came one who advised him 
to consult the hermit. 

“ He is a holy man,” he assured him earnestly, “and 
has retired from the world that he may give his time to 
prayer and fasting. He thinks he can serve Christ this 
way better than any other.” 

So Offero sought the hermit, and learned from him 
many things. He heard of the grandeur and goodness of 
Christ, and of the greatness of His Kingdom. All that 
he said made Offero more eager to serve Him than ever, 
and when the hermit explained that no one could enter 
the Heavenly Kingdom until he was summoned there by 
Christ Himself, he bowed his head in disappointment. 

“ How then can I serve this new Master,” he said, “ un- 
less I can see Him and learn His commands ? ” 

“ Do as I do,” replied the hermit. “ Give up the world, 
and fast and pray.” 

“ If I were to fast,” said Offero shrewdly, “ I should 
lose my strength, and then, when He called me to work 
for Him, I should be useless.” And although the hermit 
tried to persuade him, he would not stay, but set off again 
on his journey, determined to find the way to Heaven. 

Presently he met a company of pilgrims. They were 
dusty and travel-stained, and very footsore, but their faces 
shone with joy. There were men and women and little 
children; some came from distant lands, and some from 
near, but one and all they were filled with a deep content. 
184 


“ Who are you, and whence do you travel ? ” Offero asked 
them wonderingly. “We are the servants of Christ/’ 
they answered, “ and we are marching towards Heaven. 
The path is rough, and the way is long, but His many 
mansions await us.” 

“ I will come with you, and be His servant too ! ” said 
Offero, and they welcomed him gladly. 

The way was long, as they had said, but to the giant 
the days passed quickly. He was learning so much that 
he could scarcely sleep for the wonder of it, and his face 
also shone with happiness. He grew very grave when he 
heard of the swift-flowing river that all must cross before 
they could hope to reach the Kingdom of Heaven. 

“ There is no bridge to span it,” said an aged pilgrim, 
whose tottering limbs were now so feeble that but for Of- 
fero’s support they would hardly have borne him along. 
“ The trembling woman, the little child, must cross it alone 
in the gloom and darkness, for though they call, no 
friendly boatman appears in sight. When Christ has need 
of us, His messenger will appear; he is clothed in raiment 
white as snow, and although his voice is always gentle, it 
is as clearly heard in the rush and roar of the tempest as 
on a summer’s day.” 

At length the pilgrims came to the river-bank, and as 
the giant gazed at the foaming current, and saw the waves 
dashing against the shore, he marvelled greatly at what he 
had been told. Surely, he thought, no feeble woman or 
little child could breast its waters and reach the other side. 

Even as he mused on this the white-robed messenger 
called to an ailing girl who was almost too weak to move. 
Her Master had need of her, he said, and in the fair courts 
of Heaven she would be strong again. 

What joy was hers when she heard his voice ! But alas ! 
when she crept to the edge of the bank, and saw the river 
which swept beneath it, her heart grew sick with fear. 
185 


She quivered and shook from head to foot, and moaned 
that she dare not venture. And exceeding pity moved 
Offero to go to her help. 

“ Do not weep/’ he said, “ but trust to me.” And tak- 
ing her tenderly in his arms, he lifted her on to his shoul- 
der, and bore her tenderly across. In spite of all his 
strength, the pitiless current nearly swept him off his feet, 
and he fought with the icy waters as he had fought no 
mortal foe. The girl tried in vain to thank him as he 
placed her on the bank in safety; he would not let her 
speak. 

“Tell Christ,” he said, “that I am His servant, and 
that until He shall summon me to His side I will help 
His pilgrims to cross the river of Death.” 

From henceforth this was his work. He had no time 
to wonder when his own call would come, for day and 
night there arrived at the river banks pilgrims from every 
clime, and, since few had courage to face the dark waters 
alone, he crossed and recrossed it continually. In order 
that he might be always at hand, he built himself a rough 
log-hut by the water-side, and here he made his home. 

One night when the waves rolled fiercely and the wind 
blew high, Offero laid him down to sleep. Surely, he 
thought, no one would dare to cross in such a storm. 
His eyes had scarcely closed, however, when he heard a 
knocking at the door. 

“ Who are you ? ” he cried as he threw it open. There 
was no answer, and by the light of his lantern he saw a 
wistful child on the river-bank. He was staring down at 
the rushing waters with piteous dread, but the tone of 
his voice was clear and firm as he turned and spoke to 
Offero. 

“ I must cross to-night,” he said. Offero looked at him 
with deep compassion. 

“ Poor child ! ” he murmured, “ I am glad I heard 
186 


you. With a tide like this it will be difficult even for me, 
giant as I am, but you would be swept away.” 

With gentle hands he placed the boy on his shoulder, 
and bidding him not to fear, set out for the opposite shore. 

He had not over-estimated the difficulties he had to 
face. Time after time he was beaten backward, and the 
icy waters nearly engulfed them both. It took all his 
strength to bear up against them, and the weight of the 
child seemed greater than that of the heaviest man he had 
ever borne. When at last he climbed the steep, high 
bank, he w T as bruised as well as breathless, for the hidden 
rocks had worked him grievous harm. 

“ Tell Christ - — ” he panted. And then he saw that the 
figure beside him was not that of a little child, but of a 
radiant Being of kingly mien, with a crown of glory on 
His brow. The giant knelt before Him, and the vision 
smiled. 

“ I am the Christ,” He said, “whom thou hast served 
so long. This night thou hast borne Me across the river 
of Death. . . . Thou didst find Me a heavy burden, for 
I bore the sins of the world.” 

Then he named the Giant Offero “ Christopher,” mean- 
ing “ He who carried Christ,” and took him to dwell with 
Him in His Heavenly Kingdom. 


THE SHEPHERD AND THE DRAGON 

On a lofty mountain in Servia, surrounded by his flock, 
sat a humble shepherd. The valley beneath him was 
veiled by a thin white haze, through which he could just 
see the tips of the stately beeches, on which the frost had 
already laid his crimson touch. Only the contented 
munching of the sheep on the close-cropped grass, and 
187 . 


the trilling sweetness of a lark’s song high up in the blue, 
broke the placid stillness of the scene. 

The shepherd stretched himself, yawning, and gazed at 
the sea and sky. He had nothing to do just then, and 
little to think of, for his life flowed on in an even course, 
and though he often wished that something would happen, 
he had never been disturbed. He was gazing dreamily 
at the cottage beyond the sheep-pens, where his wife was 
busy preparing his dinner, when he saw a dark form glid- 
ing stealthily through the grass towards a big bare rock. 
It was followed by another, and yet another. They were 
finely-marked serpents with glistening scales, and each 
bore in its mouth a curious root, with which it touched 
the rock. More serpents still approached, and did the 
same, until suddenly the rock fell asunder, showing a long 
passage in the ground, into which the serpents glided, 
one by one. In his eagerness to see what they were after, 
the shepherd forgot his shuddering dislike of the venomous 
creatures, and pressed boldly into the rocky gallery. 
Soon he found himself in a large grotto lit by the gleam 
of the many precious gems that lined its wall. In its 
centre stood a magnificent throne of gold, set with emer- 
alds and sapphires, and coiled upon this was an enormous 
serpent with gleaming eyes. The other serpents gath- 
ered around in complete silence; as the shepherd gazed 
in open-mouthed wonder, the great reptile closed his eyes, 
and immediately all were asleep. 

The shepherd seized the opportunity to wander round 
the grotto, examining the jewels with which it was so 
richly encrusted, and wishing that he could carry away 
some in his pocket. Finding it impossible to detach them, 
he thought he had better depart before the serpents awoke, 
and so he made his way back through the passage; but 
the entrance was closed, and he could not get out. Oddly 
enough, he felt no alarm, and returning once more to the 
188 


grotto, laid himself down beside the serpents, and fell into 
a deep slumber. 

He was roused by the consciousness that the serpents 
were stirring. Opening his eyes, he saw that all were 
gazing with heads erect at their grim monarch. 

“ Is it time, 0 King, is it time ? ” they cried. 

“ It is time,” he answered after a long pause, and glid- 
ing down from his throne, led them through the grotto 
back to the rock. It opened as he touched it, and every 
serpent passed slowly out before him. The shepherd 
would have followed, but the Snake King barred his way 
with an angry hiss. 

“Let me through, I entreat you, 0 gracious King!” 
begged the shepherd. “I shall lose my flock if I leave it 
longer, and my wife will be waiting for me at home.” 

“You entered our sleeping-place without an invitation, 
and now you must stay,” replied the King; but the shep- 
herd pleaded so earnestly for his release that he was 
moved to clemency. 

“ I will let you go this time,” he said, “ if you will give 
your solemn promise that you will reveal our hiding-place 
to no one.” 

The shepherd was quite ready to do this, and three 
times in succession he repeated to tljg Serpent King the 
words of a solemn oath. This don£, he was allowed to 
pass out of the rock. 

The chestnut-trees in the fertile valley were now a mass 
of star-white blossom, and the bleating of the lambs told 
him that spring had come. Greatly bewildered, he hur- 
ried towards his home, rather doubtful as to what recep- 
tion his wife would give him. As he approached the cot- 
tage, he saw a stranger standing by the door, and stepped 
into the shadow of a bush that he might wait unseen until 
he had gone. 

“ Is your husband at home ? ” inquired the man, as the 
189 


shepherd’s wife, looking pale and thin, answered his loud 
knock. 

“ Alas ! no,” was her mournful reply. “ I have not seen 
him since last autumn, when he left me to tend his flock 
on the mountain-side. I fear the wolves must have de- 
voured him.” And covering her head with her apron, she 
burst into tears. Touched by her distress, the shepherd 
now came forward. 

“ I am here, dear wife,” he told her joyfully. The 
woman immediately stopped her weeping, and instead of 
bidding him welcome, began to scold him. 

“ Where have you been to, you lazy fellow?” she de- 
manded. “ It was just like you to leave me to get through 
the winter as best I could. Answer me at once ! ” 

The shepherd could not do this without breaking his 
oath, and there was something so strange in his manner 
as he tried to parry her questions that the curiosity of 
the stranger was aroused. 

“ Come, come, my good man,” he said, “ tell your wife 
the truth, and I will reward you with a piece of gold. 
Where did you sleep through the winter nights, and what 
have you been doing ? ” 

“ I slept in the sheep-pen,” began the shepherd, and the 
stranger burst into a scornful laugh. 

“You need not fancy we are foolish enough to believe 
that,” he said. “ Out with it, man ! We can see you are 
hiding something.” 

Thus pressed, the shepherd reluctantly confessed the 
existence of the grotto, and the stranger, who happened 
to be a magician in disguise, forced him not only to guide 
him hither, but to reveal the manner of entrance. A root 
that a serpent had discarded lay at their feet, and on 
touching the rock with this, it opened immediately, and 
let them through. 

The magician coveted the splendid jewels that lined the 
190 


walls of the grotto as much as the shepherd had done, 
and conned through the book of spells that he drew from 
the folds of his garment to see if it would tell him how to 
gain possession of the rich store. 

“ I have it ! ” he exclaimed. “ I shall now be rich a3 
the heart of man can desire, and you, good shepherd, shall 
share my wealth/’ 

Replacing his book, he was about to set fire to a small 
pellet which he took from his pocket, when he was inter- 
rupted by a terrible hiss. Unseen by the intruders, the 
King of the Serpents had followed in the form of a Green 
Dragon, and now reproached the shepherd with much vio- 
lence for having broken his oath. His rage was so great 
that the shepherd thought his end had come. 

“ Throw this over his head,” muttered the magician in 
his ear, handing him a rope. 

Despite the trembling of his hand, the shepherd made a 
cast which was successful, and as the loop encircled the 
neck of the King, the rock burst asunder with a report 
which echoed from hill to hill. The next moment the 
shepherd found himself flying through space on the back 
of the Green Dragon. Such was the speed at which the 
wings of the fiery creature clove the air that the rushing 
of the wind in his rider’s face was painful to endure. 

They went over mountains and over seas, over desert 
lands where sand-storms raged and vultures lay in wait 
for the fainting camels, until at last they came to a wide 
plain watered by many rivers. The Dragon flew higher 
and higher, until the shepherd grew dizzy and lost his 
breath. His eyes were closed, but in the blue sky above 
him he could hear the sweet clear notes of a soaring lark. 

“Dear bird,” he cried, “thou art precious to our Mas- 
ter, who loves us all. Fly up to Him, I pray thee, and beg 
Him to send me help in my sorry plight.” 

The lark flew up to Heaven as he had bidden her, and 

191 


returned with a green leaf from a tree in Paradise in her 
tiny beak. Gladly she dropped this on the Dragon’s head, 
and as it touched him he fell to the ground and became 
once more a crawling serpent. 

When the shepherd regained consciousness, he was on 
the mountain-side, with his flocks around him, and his 
faithful dog at his feet. The forest was still in its autumn 
glory of yellow and gold, and in the distance he could see 
his wife beckoning to him from his cottage door. 

“ I must have been dreaming,” he said, as with thankful 
heart he went home to his dinner. He lived to a ripe old 
age in peace and quietness, and never again did he wish 
that something strange would happen. 


THE BAR OF GOLD 

Long years ago there lived a poor labouring man who 
never knew what it was to sleep in peace. Whether the 
times were good or bad, he was haunted by fears for the 
morrow, and this constant worrying caused him to look 
so thin and worn that the neighbouring farmers hesitated 
to give him work. He was steady and frugal, and had 
never been known to waste his time in the village inn, or 
indulge in foolish pleasures — in fact, a worthier man 
could not be found, and his friends agreed in saying that 
he certainly deserved success, though this never came his 
way. 

One day as he sat by the roadside with his head on his 
hands, a kindly and charitable doctor from the town close 
by stopped his carriage to ask him what was the matter. 

“ You seem in trouble, my good man,” he said. “ Tell 
me what I can do to help you.” 

Encouraged by the sympathy in his voice, “ Weeping 
192 


John,” as he was called, poured out his woes, to which 
the doctor listened with much attention. 

“ If I should fall sick,” the poor man finished by say- 
ing, “what would happen to my little children, and the 
wife whom I love more dearly than life itself? They 
would surely starve, for even as it is they often go hungry 
to bed. Surely a more unfortunate man has never been 
born — I toil early and late, and this is my reward.” 
And once more he buried his face in his hands, while bit- 
ter sobs shook his ill-clad shoulders. 

“Come, come!” said the doctor briskly. “Get up at 
once, man, and I will do my best for you. I can see that 
if you do not kill worry, worry will kill you.” Helping 
the poor fellow into his carriage, he told the coachman to 
drive straight home, and when they arrived at his com- 
fortable mansion, he led him into his surgery. 

“See here,” he cried, pointing to a shining bar in a 
glass case, “ that bar of gold was bequeathed to me by my 
father, who was once as poor as you are now. By means 
of the strictest economy, and hard work, he managed to 
save sufficient money to purchase this safeguard against 
want. When it came to me, I too was poor, but by fol- 
lowing his example, and keeping a brave heart, in cloud 
and storm as well as sunshine, I have now amassed a for- 
tune that is more than sufficient for my needs. Therefore, 
I will now hand over to you the bar of gold, since I no 
longer require it. Its possession will give you confidence 
for the future. Do not break into it if you can avoid it, 
and remember that sighing and weeping should be left to 
weak women and girls.” 

The labourer thanked him with much fervour and hid- 
ing the bar of gold beneath his coat, sped joyfully home- 
ward. 

As he and his wife sat over the fire, which they now 
were no longer afraid to replenish, he told her all that the 
193 


good doctor had said, and they agreed that unless the 
worst came to the worst, they would never touch the bar 
of gold. 

“ The knowledge that we have it, safely hidden in the 
cellar,” said his wife, “will keep from us all anxiety. 
And now, John, you must do your best to make a fortune, 
so that we may be able to hand it on to our dear children.” 

From that day John was a changed man. He sang 
and whistled merrily as he went about his work, and bore 
himself like a prosperous citizen. His cheeks filled out, 
and his eye grew bright ; no longer did he waste his leisure 
in lamentations, but dug and planted his little garden 
until it yielded him richly of the fruits of the earth, and 
the proceeds helped to swell the silver coins in his good 
wife’s stocking. The farmer who had before employed 
him when short of hands, was so impressed with his 
altered looks that he took him permanently into his service, 
and with regular food and sufficient clothing John’s deli- 
cate children grew strong and hardy. 

“ The bar of gold has brought us luck,” he would some- 
times say blithely to his wife, who held her tongue like a 
wise woman, although she was tempted to remind him 
that “ luck ” had come since he had given up weeping and 
lamentations concerning the future. 

One summer’s evening, long afterwards, as they sat in 
the wide porch, while their grandchildren played in the 
meadow beyond, and the lowing of the cows on their peace- 
ful farm mingled with the little people’s merry shouts, a 
stranger came up the pathway and begged for alms. 
Though torn and tattered, and gaunt with hunger, he had 
an air of gentleness and refinement, and, full of compas- 
sion, the worthy couple invited him to rest. They set 
before him the best they had, and when he tried to express 
his gratitude, J ohn laid his hand on his shoulder. 

“My friend,” he said, “Providence has been good to 
194 


us, and blessed the labour of our hands. In times gone 
by, however, I was as wretched as you appeared to be when 
you crossed the road, and it is owing to a stranger’s kind- 
ness that I am in my present position.” He went on to 
tell him of the bar of gold, and, after a long look at his 
wife, who nodded her head as if well pleased, he went and 
fetched it from the cellar, where it had lain hidden all 
these years. 

“ There ! ” he exclaimed. “ I am going to give it to 
you. I shall not want it now, and my children are all 
settled. It is fitting that you should have it since your 
need is very great.” 

Now the stranger understood the science of metals, for 
he was a learned man who had fallen on evil times. As 
he took the gleaming bar in his hands, while murmuring 
his astonished thanks, he knew by its weight that it was 
not gold. 

“ You have made a mistake, my friends,” he cried. 
“ This bar is not what you think it, though I own that 
most men would be deceived.” 

Greatly surprised, the old woman took it from him, and 
polished it with her apron in order to show him how 
brightly it gleamed. As she did so, an inscription ap- 
peared, which neither she nor her husband had noticed 
before. Both listened with great interest as the stranger 
read it out for them. 

“ It is less a matter of actual want,” it ran, “ than the 
fear of what the morrow will bring, which causes the un- 
happiness of the poor. Then tread the path of life with 
courage, for it is clear that at last you will reach the end 
of your journey.” 

When the stranger paused there was a dead silence, for 
the old man and woman were thinking many things, and 
words do not come quickly when one is deeply moved. At 
last John offered the stranger a tremulous apology for the 
195 


disappointment he must now be suffering through their 
innocent mistake. 

“ On the contrary,” he replied warmly, “ the lesson that 
bar has taught me is worth far more than any money you 
could give me. I shall make a new start in life, and, re- 
membering that we fail through fear, will henceforth bear 
myself as a brave man should.” 

So saying, he bade them adieu, and passed out into the 
fragrant twilight. 


THE FARMER AND THE NOSES 

In the neighbourhood of the city of Prague there once 
lived a very eccentric farmer, who was reputed to be ex- 
tremely wealthy. He had a remarkably handsome daugh- 
ter, with a pair of fine dark eyes, who was a great favourite 
with many students at a neighbouring University. She 
would often chat with these when they passed her home 
in their country rambles, but she never showed more en- 
couragement to one than to the other. 

So charming was Theresa, and so rich her father, that 
the name of her suitors was legion. Theresa knew her 
own value well, and was not a ripe cherry ready to drop 
off the branch at a moment’s touch. This only enhanced 
her attraction to her lover$, and several of them agreed 
upon the ingenious plan of entering her father’s service 
during their vacation as ordinary farm-hands, so that one 
of their number might thus find an opportunity of win- 
ning her maidenly heart. 

The farmer was a shrewd old man, and soon discovered 
their wily plot. For the future, he declared, he would 
only take servants who agreed to remain in his employ- 
196 


ment for at least a year, and permit him to cut off the tips 
of their noses if they became discontented. He, for his 
part, would agree that he should forfeit the tip of his own 
nose if he lost his temper with them. Notwithstanding 
this extraordinary condition, so fascinating was Theresa, 
and the reputation of his wealth, that several of the Uni- 
versity students entered his service. 

It was fine sport for the farmer, for he had the youths 
in the hollow of his hand. By putting upon them unex- 
pected hardships, he surprised them into betraying discon- 
tent. He then demanded that they should pay the 
penalty, and ignominiously dismissed them, minus the tips 
of their noses. 

At length, however, a young student named Coranda 
arrived on the scene, determined to win the farmer’s daugh- 
ter. The conditions were fully explained to him, so that 
he might have no just cause of complaint if he did not 
comply with them. 

“ Remember,” said the farmer, “that if you come you 
must stay until the cuckoo returns in the spring, and if, 
in the meantime, you show any signs of discontent, you 
too will forfeit the tip of your nose.” 

“Very well,” said the student calmly, and with an af- 
fectionate glance at Theresa took off his coat and prepared 
to work. 

The farmer began his usual tactics. At dinner and 
supper he offered the young man nothing to eat, yet smil- 
ingly inquired from time to time if he had had enough. 
Coranda replied with gay good-humour that he was per- 
fectly satisfied, but having no intention of starving, he 
coolly helped himself to a piece of bread and a thick slice 
of meat. The farmer turned pale with anger, and asked 
him how he dared to take such a liberty. 

“ I was hungry,” Coranda replied, “ for I had not 
tasted food all day. However,” he added, “ since you are 
197 . 


not satisfied, and I have made you angry, I will leave at 
once, after having sliced off the tip of your nose.” 

The farmer saw that he was fairly caught in his own 
trap, and as he had no desire to be disfigured, he declared 
that he too was satisfied. After this he took good care 
that Coranda should have his share at meal times. 

When Sunday morning came the farmer made another 
attempt to put him in the wrong. 

"I am going to church with my wife and daughter,” 
he said. “ You must prepare the soup during my absence. 
Here are meat, carrots, onions, and the pot. You will 
find parsley in the garden. See that your soup is good, 
or you will rue it. Don’t forget the herbs,” he added; 
“I like my broth well seasoned.” 

Shortly after they had gone Coranda began his soup- 
making. He threw the meat and vegetables into the pot, 
filled it with water, and then went off into the garden for 
the parsley. He found other green things in plenty, but 
no parsley, though he searched under rose-bushes and 
round the borders, and made himself very hot and uncom- 
fortable in the process. The farmer’s small dog frisked 
round him all the time, apparently delighted by his non- 
success. It refused to be driven away, and yelped and 
barked without ceasing. Suddenly Coranda remembered 
that for some absurd reason or other they had named the 
little brute “ Parsley.” 

“ Aho,” he said, “ I have it now ! ” And without more 
ado he killed the dog, and added it to the. contents of the 
pot. 

In due time the farmer came back from church, looking 
very well pleased. Theresa had on a new frock trimmed 
with blue ribbons, and he chuckled with glee at the 
temerity of the rash student who thought to woo her. 

“ He’s a handsome fellow,” he said to himself, “ but it 
198 


will spoil his beauty when I snip off his nose.” He at 
once proceeded to make matters uncomfortable for the 
young man. 

“I hope your 60up is good/ 5 he said, as his wife ladled 
him out a steaming plateful. It tasted abominable, and 
was swimming with fat, but a gleam in the student’s eye 
reminded him in time that if he gave way to his own 
temper his own nose would suffer. So he swallowed his 
own anger, though not the soup. 

“ Parsley ! ” he cried, looking round for his dog, “ come 
here ! this soup is fit for you, and you shall have it.” 

“ It is parsley which gives my soup its excellent flavour,” 
remarked the student, with a roguish glance at Theresa, 
who demurely cast down her eyes. “I could find non® 
save the dog, and so I put him in the pot.” 

On hearing this the farmer began to scold violently. 

“ I did merely what you told me,” said the youth, “ but 
if you are angry I am ready to go, taking with me the tip 
of your nose.” 

“Oh, no, I am not angry,” replied the farmer, with a 
deep sigh. His face was distorted with rage, and the other 
servants had much to do to keep from laughing.. 

Next morning the farmer went to market. He would 
not leave either his wife or daughter at home, for he sus- 
pected them of favouring the handsome student. Before 
he set out he gave them his orders for the day, and in 
such a rude tone of voice that the young man flushed with 
anger. He was only to do what he saw others doing? he 
was told, and the farmer added a slighting remark as to 
his general incapacity. 

Coranda sauntered around the farm with his hands in 
his pockets on the lookout for an opportunity to get even 
with his employer. By-and-by he noticed some workmen 
placing a ladder against an old barn, and waited to see 
199 


what they were going to do. One after another they 
climbed to the roof, and began to take off the tiles as a 
preliminary to pulling down the building. 

Coranda lost no time in following their example. He 
fetched another ladder, and mounting the roof of the 
farmer’s house, set to work to demolish this. When the 
farmer returned he was horrified to see that most of it was 
uncovered. Naturally indignant, he attacked the young 
man bitterly, to be met with the same good-humour, and 
an offer to leave his service on the conditions agreed upon. 
The farmer once more could not find a word to say, and 
stalked away in gloomy anger. 

This sort of thing went on for some weeks. Try as he 
might, he could not get the better of the quick-witted 
student, who scrupled at nothing to win Theresa for his 
bride. It was she whom the father at last consulted, for 
life was becoming a burden to him, and he was anxious to 
get rid of Coranda at any cost. 

Theresa considered awhile, and there was an odd ex- 
pression on her pretty lips when at last she spoke. 

“Well,” she said to him, “you told him that he could 
not leave until he heard the cuckoo’s call. Take him into 
the meadow behind the orchard. I will hide in the boughs 
of an apple-tree, and imitate the cuckoo’s voice.” 

“You are as clever as you are handsome,” cried her 
father with delight, and pretending to desire a private 
conversation with the student, he took him into the 
meadow. Theresa, of course, was safely ensconced by this 
time in the spreading boughs of an apple-tree. 

“ CUCKOO ! CUCKOO ! ” she cried, so naturally that 
a robin on a neighbouring bush was nearly startled out of 
his feathers. As the sound reached his ears, the farmer 
promptly gave the young man notice. 

“Very good, master,” replied Coranda, “but this 
cuckoo’s an early bird. I must have a look at her.’" 

£00 


Before the farmer could stop him he ran to the orchard, 
and catching a glimpse of Theresa’s frock through the 
gnarled brown boughs, he vigorously shook the apple-tree. 
Down came the girl, falling into his arms, and he held her 
there tightly, in spite of her mild struggles to escape. 

“ Wretch ! ” cried the farmer. “ Be off at once before 
I put an end to you.” 

“ Why should I be off?” inquired Coranda, trying to 
look at Theresa’s face, which was certainly pink enough 
for an apple-blossom. “Are you angry? It’s a lovely 
cuckoo.” 

“ Begone ! ” shouted the farmer. “ Set my daughter 
free, and away with you ! ” 

“ Then allow me to cut off the tip of your nose,” was 
the reply, and now Theresa succeeded in escaping from the 
arms that held her. The farmer stood aghast. 

“ No, no,” he exclaimed in distressful tones, “ I cannot 
have that, but you must leave us. If you go at once I will 
give you ten sheep.” 

“That’s not enough,” replied the student, shaking his 
head. 

“ Then ten cows,” said the farmer hastily. 

“No, I would rather keep to our agreement,” replied 
Coranda, whipping out of his pocket a very large penknife 
and opening one blade. Theresa sprang forward with a 
cry of horror. Once more the student caught her in his 
arms. 

“SSH! Your father shall keep his nose, but he must 
give you to me for my wife.” And he kissed her so 
ardently that if Theresa had any objection to make, it was 
not heard. 

The farmer now forgot everything in his rage at the 
young man’s boldness, but in the midst of his storming 
the fair Theresa threw her arms around his neck and im- 
plored him not to sacrifice his nose, since she was quite 
201 


willing to marry this lover. The situation was not an 
easy one for the poor man, and at length he allowed him- 
self to be appeased, and admitted that Coranda had the 
best of the argument. There was no denying this, and as 
the young man would not relinquish his advantage, the 
farmer was forced to give a favourable answer to his suit. 

The wedding of the young people was celebrated soon 
afterward, and Coranda invited his fellow-students, who 
came with a good grace. The farmer soon became recon- 
ciled to his son-in-law, and in due course was a great 
favourite with his grandchildren. If they were naughty, 
or appeared discontented, their father would threaten to 
cut off the tips of their noses, and then the old man might 
be seen tenderly rubbing his own. 


A CHILD’S DREAM OF A STAR 

There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, 
and thought of a good number of things. He had a sister, 
who was a child too, and his constant companion. These 
two used to wonder all day long. They wondered at the 
beauty of the flowers; they wondered at the height and 
blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth of the 
bright water ; they wondered at the goodness and the power 
of God who made the lovely world. 

They used to say to one another, sometimes, supposing 
all the children upon earth were to die, would the flowers 
and the water and the sky be sorry? They believed they 
would be sorry. For, said they, the buds are the children 
of the flowers, and the little playful streams that gambol 
down the hill-sides are the children of the water; and the 
smallest bright specks playing at hide and seek in the sky 
all night must surely be the children of the stars; and 
202 


they would all be grieved to see their playmates, the chil- 
dren of men, no more. 

There was one clear shining star that used to come out 
in the sky before the rest, near the church spire, above 
the graves. It was larger and more beautiful, they 
thought, than all the others, and every night they watched 
for it, standing hand in hand at a window. Whoever saw 
it first cried out, “ I see the star ! ” And often they cried 
out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and 
where. So they grew to be such friends with it, that, 
before lying down in their beds, they always looked out 
once again, to bid it good night; and when they were 
turning round to sleep, they used to say “ God bless the 
star ! ” 

But while she was still very young, oh very very young, 
the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she could 
no longer stand in the window at night; and then the 
child looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the 
star turned round and said to the patient pale face on the 
bed, “ I see the star ! 99 and then a smile would come upon 
the face, and then a little weak voice used to say, “ God 
bless my brother and the star ! 99 

And so the time came all too soon! when the child 
looked out alone, and when there was no face on the bed; 
and when there was a little grave among the graves, not 
there before; and when the star made long rays down to- 
wards him, as he saw it through his tears. 

Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to 
make such a shining way from earth to heaven, that when 
the child went to his solitary bed, he dreamed about the 
star; and dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a 
train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. 
And the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, 
where many more such angels waited to receive them. 

All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beam- 
203 


ing eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star ; 
and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, 
and fell upon the people’s necks, and kissed them ten- 
derly, and went away with them down avenues of light, 
and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed 
he wept for joy. 

But there were many angels who did not go with them, 
and among them one he knew. The patient face that 
once had lain upon the bed was glorified and radiant, but 
his heart found out his sister among all the host. 

His sister’s angel lingered near the entrance of the star, 
and said to the leader among those who had brought the 
people thither, 

“ Is my brother come?” 

And he said “ No.” 

She was turning hopefully away, when the child 
stretched out his arms, and cried, “ 0, sister, I am here ! 
Take me!” and then she turned her beaming eyes upon 
him, and it was night; and the star was shining into the 
room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it 
through his tears. 

From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the 
star as on the home he was to go to, when his time should 
come ; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth 
alone, but to the star too, because of his sister’s angel gone 
before. 

There was a baby born to be a brother to the child ; and 
while he was so little that he never yet had spoken word, 
he stretched his tiny form out on his bed, and died. 

Again the child dreamed of the open star, and of the 
company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows 
of angels with their beaming eyes all turned upon those 
people’s faces. 

Said his sister’s angel to the leader : 

204 


“Is my brother come?” 

And he said, “ Not that one but another.” 

As the child beheld his brother’s angel in her arms, he 
cried, “ 0, sister, I am here ! Take me ! ” And she 
turned and smiled upon him, and the star was shining. 

He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books 
when an old servant came to him and said : 

“ Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessings on her 
darling son ! ” 

Again at night he saw the star, and all that former 
company. Said his sister’s angel to the leader: 

“ Is my brother come ? ” 

And he said, “Thy mother!” 

A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, 
because the mother was re-united to her two children. 
And he stretched out his arms and cried, “ 0, mother, 
sister, and brother, I am here ! Take me ! ” And they 
answered him, “Not yet,” and the star was shining. 

He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning grey, and 
he was sitting in his chair by the fireside, heavy with 
grief, and his face bedewed with tears, when the star 
opened once again. 

Said his sister’s angel to the leader: “Is my brother 
come ? ” 

And he said, “Nay, but his maiden daughter.” 

And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, 
newly lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, 
and he said, “ My daughter’s head is on my sister’s bosom, 
and her arm is around my mother’s neck, and at her feet 
there is the baby of old time, and I can bear the parting 
from her, God be praised ! ” 

And the star was shining. 

Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once 
smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and 
205 


feeble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay 
upon his bed, his children standing round, he cried, as 
he had cried so long ago : 

“ I see the star ! ” 

They whispered to one another, “ He is dying.” 

And he said, “I am. My age is falling from me like 
a garment, and I move towards the star as a child. And 
0, my Father, now I thank thee that it has so often opened, 
to receive those dear ones who await me ! ” 

And the star was shining; and it shines upon his grave. 


PRINCE BULL, A FAIRY TALE 

Once upon a time, and of course it was in the Golden Age, 
and I hope you may know when that was, for I am sure I 
don't, though I have tried hard to find out, there lived in 
a rich and fertile country, a powerful Prince whose name 
was Bull. He had gone through a great deal of fighting, 
in his time, about all sorts of things, including nothing; 
but had gradually settled down to be a steady, peaceable, 
good-natured, corpulent, rather sleepy Prince. 

This Puissant Prince was married to a lovely Princess 
whose name was Fair Freedom. She had brought him a 
large fortune, and had borne him an immense number of 
children, and had set them to spinning, and farming, and 
engineering, and soldiering, and sailoring, and doctoring, 
and lawyering, and preaching, and all kinds of trades. 
The coffers of Prince Bull were full of treasure, his cellars 
were crammed with delicious wines from all parts of the 
world, the richest gold and silver plate that ever was seen 
adorned his sideboards, his sons were strong, his daughters 
were handsome, and in short you might have supposed 
206 


that if there ever lived upon earth a fortunate and happy 
Prince, the name of that Prince, take him for all in all, 
was assuredly Prince Bull. 

But appearances, as we all know, are not always to be 
trusted — far from it; and if they had led you to this 
conclusion respecting Prince Bull, they would have led you 
wrong as they often have led me. 

For this good Prince had two sharp thorns in his pillow, 
two hard knobs in his crown, two heavy loads on his mind, 
two unbridled nightmares in his sleep, two rocks ahead in 
his course. He could not by any means get servants to 
suit him, and he had a tyrannical old godmother, whose 
name was Tape. 

She was a fairy, this Tape, and was a bright red all 
over. She was disgustingly prim and formal, and could 
never bend herself a hair's breadth this way or that way, 
out of her naturally crooked shape. But she was very 
potent in her wicked art. She could stop the fastest thing 
in the world, change the strongest thing into the weakest, 
and the most useful into the most useless. To do this she 
had only to put her cold hand upon it, and repeat her own 
name. Tape. Then it withered away. 

At the court of Prince Bull-*— at least I don't mean 
literally at his court, because he was a very genteel Prince, 
and readily yielded to his godmother when she always re- 
served that for his hereditary Lords and Ladies — in the 
dominions of Prince Bull, among the great mass of the 
community who were called in the language of that polite 
country the Mobs and the Snobs, were a number of very 
ingenious men, who were always busy with some inven- 
tion or other, for promoting the prosperity of the Prince's 
subjects, and augmenting the Prince's power. But, when- 
ever they submitted their models for the Prince's ap- 
proval, his godmother stepped forward, laid her hand 
upon them, and said "Tape." Hence it came to pass, 
207 


that when any particularly good discovery was made, the 
discoverer usually carried it off to some other Prince, in 
foreign parts, who had no old godmother who said “ Tape.” 
This was not on the whole an advantageous state of things 
for Prince Bull, to the best of my understanding. 

The worst of it was, that Prince Bull had in course of 
years lapsed into such a state of subjection to this un- 
lucky godmother, that he never made any serious effort to 
rid himself of her tyranny. I have said this was the 
worst of it, but there I was wrong, because there is a 
worse consequence still, behind. The Prince’s numerous 
family became so downright sick and tired of Tape, that 
when they should have helped the Prince out of the diffi- 
culties into which that evil creature led him, they fell into 
a dangerous habit of moodily keeping away from him in 
an impassive and indifferent manner, as though they 
had quite forgotten that no harm could happen to the 
Prince their father, without its inevitably affecting them- 
selves. 

Such was the aspect of affairs at the court of Prince 
Bull, when this great Prince found it necessary to go to 
war with Prince Bear. He had been for some time very 
doubtful of his servants, who, besides being indolent and 
addicted to enriching their families at his expense, 
domineered over him dreadfully; threatening to discharge 
themselves if they were found the least fault with, pre- 
tending that they had done nothing, making the most un- 
meaning speeches that ever were heard in the Prince’s 
name, and uniformly showing themselves to he very in- 
efficient indeed. Though, that some of them had excellent 
characters from previous situations is not to he denied. 
Well, Prince Bull called his servants together, and said 
to them one and all, “ Send out my army against Prince 
Bear. Clothe it, arm it, feed it, provide it with all neces- 
saries and contingencies, and I will pay the piper! Do 
208 


your duty by my grave troops,” said the Prince, “ and do 
it well, and I will pour my treasure out like water, to de- 
fray the cost. Who ever heard me complain of money 
well laid out ! ” Which indeed he had reason for saying, 
inasmuch as he was well known to he a truly generous 
and munificent Prince. 

When the servants heard those words, they sent out the 
army against Prince Bear, and they set the army tailors 
to work, and the army provision merchants, and the mak- 
ers of guns both great and small, and the gunpowder 
makers, and the makers of ball, shell, and shot; and the$y 
bought up all manner of stores and ships, without 
troubling their heads about the price, and appeared to be 
so busy that the good Prince rubbed his hands and (using 
a favourite expression of his) said, “ It’s all right ! ” But 
while they were thus employed, the Prince’s godmother, 
who was a great favourite with those servants, looked in 
upon them continually all day long, and whenever she 
popped in her head at the door said, “ How do you do, my 
children ? WTiat are you doing here ? ” “ Official busi- 
ness, godmother.” “ 0 ho ! ” says this wicked fairy. 
“• — Tape ! ” And then the business all went wrong, what- 
ever it was, and the servants’ heads became so addled and 
muddled that they thought they were doing wonders. 

Now, this was very had conduct on the part of the 
vicious old nuisance, and she ought to have been strangled, 
even if she had stopped here; but she didn’t stop here, as 
you shall learn. For a number of the Prince’s subjects, 
being very fond of the Prince’s army who were the bravest 
of men, assembled together and provided all manner of 
eatables and drinkables, and books to read, and clothes to 
wear, and tobacco to smoke, and candles to burn, and 
nailed them up in great packing-cases, and put them 
aboard a great many ships, to be carried out to that brave 
army in the cold and inclement country -where they were 
209 


fighting Prince Bear. Then up comes this wicked fairy 
as the ships were weighing anchor, and says, “ How do you 
do, my children? What are you doing here ? ’’ “ We are 

going with all these comforts to the army, godmother." 
“Oho!" says she. “A pleasant voyage, my darlings. — 
Tape ! " And from that time forth, those enchanted ships 
went sailing, against wind and tide and rhyme and reason, 
round and round the world, and whenever they touched at 
any port were ordered off immediately, and could never 
deliver their cargoes anywhere. 

This, again, was very bad conduct on the part of the 
vicious old nuisance, and she ought to have been strangled 
for it if she had done nothing worse; but she did some- 
thing worse still, as you shall learn. For she got astride 
of an official broomstick, and muttered as a spell these 
two sentences, “ On Her Majesty’s service," and “ I have 
the honour to be, sir, your most obedient servant," and 
presently alighted in the cold and inclement country where 
the army of Prince Bull were encamped to fight the army 
of Prince Bear. On the sea-shore of that country, she 
found piled together a number of houses for the army to 
live in, and a quantity of provisions for the army to live 
upon, and a quantity of clothes for the army to wear: 
while, sitting in the mud gazing at them, were a group of 
officers as red to look at as the wicked old woman herself. 
So, she said to one of them, “Who are you, my darling, 
and how do you do?" “I am the Quarter-master Gen- 
eral’s Department, godmother, and I am pretty well." 
Then she said to another, “ Who are you, my darling, and 
how do you do ? " “I am the Commissariat Department, 
godmother, and I am pretty well." Then she said to some 
gentlemen scented with lavender, who kept themselves at 
a great distance from the rest, “ And who are you, my 
pretty pets, and how do you do?" And they answered, 
“ We-aw-are-the-aw-Staff-aw-Department, godmother, and 
210 


we are very well indeed.” “ I am delighted to see you all, 
my beauties,” says this wicked old Fairy, — “ Tape ! ” 
Upon that, the houses, the clothes, and provisions, all 
mouldered away; and the soldiers who were sound, fell 
sick; and the soldiers who were sick, died miserably: and 
the noble army of Prince Bull perished. 

When the dismal news of his great loss was carried to 
the Prince, he suspected his godmother very much indeed ; 
but he knew that his servants must have kept company 
with the malicious beldame, and must have given way to 
her, and therefore he resolved to turn those servants out 
of their places. So he called to him a Eoebuck who had 
the gift of speech, and he said, “ Good Eoebuck, tell them 
they must go.” So the good Eoebuck delivered his mes- 
sage, so like a man that you might have supposed him to 
be nothing but a man, and they were turned out — but not 
without warning, for that they had had a long time. 

And now comes the most extraordinary part of the his- 
tory of this Prince. When he had turned out those serv- 
ants, of course he wanted others. What was his aston- 
ishment to find that in all his dominions, which contained 
no less than twenty-seven millions of people, there were 
not above five-and- twenty servants all together! They 
were so lofty about it, too, that instead of discussing 
whether they should hire themselves as servants to Prince 
Bull, they turned things topsy-turvy, and considered 
whether as a favour they should hire Prince Bull to be their 
master ! While they were arguing this point among them- 
selves quite at their leisure, the wicked old red Fairy was 
incessantly going up and down, knocking at the doors of 
twelve of the oldest of the five-and-twenty, who were the 
oldest inhabitants in all that country, and whose united ages 
amounted to one thousand, saying, “ Will you hire Prince 
Bull for your master? — Will you hire Prince Bull for 
your master ? ” To which one answered, “ I will if next 
211 


door will ; ” and another, “ I won’t if over the way does ; ” 
and another, "I can’t if he, she, or they, might, could, 
would, or should.” And all this time Prince Bull’s af- 
fairs were going to rack and ruin. 

At last, Prince Bull in the height of his perplexity 
assumed a thoughtful face, as if he were struck by an en- 
tirely new idea. The wicked old Fairy, seeing this, was 
at his elbow directly, and said, “ How do you do, my 
Prince, and what are you thinking of?” “I am think- 
ing, godmother,” says he, “ that among all the seven-and- 
twenty millions of my subjects who have never been in 
service, there are men of intellect and business who have 
made me very famous both among my friends and 
enemies.” “ Ay, truly ? ” says the Fairy. “ Ay, truly,” 
says the Prince. “ And what then ? ” says the Fairy. 
“ Why then,” he says, “ since the regular old class of serv- 
ants do so ill, are so hard to get, and carry it with so high 
a hand, perhaps I might try to make good servants of 
some of these.” The words had no sooner passed his lips 
than she returned, chuckling, “You think so, do you? 
Indeed, my Prince ? — Tape ! ” Thereupon he directly 
forgot what he was thinking of, and cried out lamentably 
to the old servants, “ 0, do come and hire your poor oM 
master ! Pray do ! On any terms ! ” 

And this, for the present, finishes the story of Prince 
Bull. I wish I could wind it up by saying that he lived 
happy ever afterwards, but I cannot in my conscience do 
so ; for, with Tape at his elbow, and his estranged children 
fatally repelled by her from coming near him, I do not, 
to tell you the plain truth, believe in the possibility of 
such an end to it. 


212 


THE TWO GIFTS 


A heavy snow-storm was raging, and great soft flakes 
fell through the air like feathers shaken from the wings 
of an innumerable host of angels. By the side of the 
roadway sat a poor old woman, her scanty clothing form- 
ing but a poor protection from the icy blast of the wind. 
She was very hungry, for she had tasted no food that day, 
but her faded eyes were calm and patient, telling of an 
unwavering trust in Providence. Perhaps, she thought, 
some traveller might come that way who would have com- 
passion on her, and give her alms; then she could return 
to the garret that she called "home,” with bread to eat, 
and fuel to kindle a fire. 

The day drew in, and still she sat and waited. At last 
a traveller approached. The thick snow muffled every 
sound and she was not aware of his coming until his burly 
figure loomed before her. Her plaintive voice made him 
turn with a start. 

a Poor woman,” he cried, pausing to look at her very 
pityingly. “ It is hard for you to be out in such weather 
as this.” Then he passed on, without giving her any- 
thing; his conscience told him that he ought to have re- 
lieved her, but he did not feel inclined to take off his thick 
gloves in that bitter cold, and without doing this he could 
not have found a coin. 

The poor woman was naturally disappointed, but she 
was grateful for his kind words. By-and-by another trav- 
eller appeared. This one was driving in a splendid car- 
riage, warmly wrapped in a great fur cloak. As he caught 
sight of the poor creature by the roadside, he felt vaguely 
touched by the contrast of his own comfort with her mis- 
213 


ery. Obeying a sudden impulse, with one hand he let 
down the carriage window and signed to his coachman to 
stop, and with the other felt in his pocket. The poor 
woman hurried up to the carriage, a thrill of hope bring- 
ing a tinge of colour to her pale and withered cheeks. 

“ How terribly cold it is ! ” exclaimed the rich man, and 
as he took his hand from his pocket, and held out a coin 
to her, he noticed that instead of silver he was about to 
give her a piece of gold. 

“Dear me! That is far too much,” he cried, but be- 
fore he could return it to his pocket, the coin slipped 
through his fingers, and fell into the snow. A rough blast 
of wind made his teeth chatter, and pulling up the win- 
dow in a great hurry, with a little shiver he drew the fur 
rug around him. 

“ It certainly was too much,” he murmured philosoph- 
ically, as the carriage rolled on, “but then I am very 
rich, and can afford to do a generous action now and then.” 

When his comfortable dinner was over, and he was sit- 
ting in front of a blazing fire, he thought once more of the 
poor old woman. 

“ It is not nearly so cold as I thought,” he remarked as 
he settled himself more comfortably in his deep arm-chair. 
“ I certainly gave that old creature too much. However, 
what’s done, is done, and I hope she will make good use 
of it. I was generous, very generous indeed, and no doubt 
God will reward me.” 

Meanwhile the other traveller had also reached his 
journey’s end; and he too had found a blazing fire and a 
good dinner awaiting him. He could not enjoy it, how- 
ever, for he was haunted by the remembrance of that bent 
and shrunken figure in the waste of snow, and felt very 
remorseful for not having stopped to help her. At last 
he could bear it no longer. 

“Bring another plate,” he said, calling the servant to 
214 


him. “ There will be two to dine instead of one. I shall 
be back soon” 

Saying this he hurried through the darkness to the spot 
where he had left the old woman; she was still there, 
feebly searching amongst the snow. 

“ What are you looking for ? ” he asked. 

“ I am trying to find a piece of money which a gentle- 
man threw me from his carriage window,” she told him 
falteringly, scarcely able to speak from cold and hunger. 
It was no wonder, he thought, that she had not found it, 
for her hands were numbed and half-frozen, and she was 
not only old, but nearly blind. 

“ I am afraid you will never find it now,” he said. 
“ But come with me,” he added consolingly. “ I will take 
you to my inn, where there is a bright fire and a good 
dinner waiting for both of us. You shall be my guest, 
and I will see that you have a comfortable night’s lodging.” 

The poor woman could scarcely believe her good fortune, 
as she tremblingly prepared to follow her new friend. 
Noticing that she was lame as well as nearly blind, he 
took her arm, and with slow and patient steps led her to 
the hotel. 

When the recording angel wrote that night in the Book 
of Heaven, he made no mention of the piece of gold which 
the wealthy traveller had given by mistake, for only a 
worthy motive gains credit in that Book; but amidst the 
good deeds that had been wrought that day, he gave a 
foremost place to that of a man who had repented of his 
hardness, and faced once more the bitter cold that he 
might share his comforts with a fellow-creature so much 
less fortunate than himself. 


215 


KING KOJATA 


There was once upon a time a king called Kojata, whose 
beard was so long that it reached below his knees. Three 
years had passed since his marriage, and he lived very hap- 
pily with his wife, but Heaven granted him no heir, which 
grieved the king greatly. One day he set forth from his 
capital, in order to make a journey through his kingdom. 
He travelled for nearly a year through the different parts 
of his territory, and then having seen all there was to be 
seen, he set forth on his homeward way. As the day was 
very hot and sultry he commanded his servants to pitch 
tents in the open field and there await the cool of the 
evening. Suddenly a frightful thirst seized the king, and 
as he saw no water near, he mounted his horse and rode 
through the neighbourhood looking for a spring. Before 
long he came to a well filled to the brim with water as 
clear as crystal and on the bosom of which a golden jug 
was floating. King Kojata at once tried to seize the ves- 
sel, but though he endeavoured to grasp it with his right 
hand, and then with his left, the wretched thing always 
eluded his efforts and refused to let itself be caught. 
First with one hand, and then with two, did the king try 
to seize it, but like a fish the goblet always slipped through 
his fingers and bobbed to the ground, only to reappear at 
some other place and mock the king. 

“ Plague on you ! ” said King Kojata. “ I can quench 
my thirst without you.” And bending over the well he 
lapped up the water so greedily that he plunged his face, 
beard, and all, right into the crystal mirror. But when 
he had satisfied his thirst and wished to raise himself up 
he couldn’t lift his head, because some one held his beard 
fast in the water. “ Who’s there ? Let me go ! ” cried 
216 



“A King called Kojata, whose beard was so long it reached 
below his knees” 






King Kojata, but there was no answer. Only an awful 
face looked up from the bottom of the well with two great 
green eyes, glowing like emeralds, and a wide mouth reach- 
ing from ear to ear, showing two rows of gleaming white 
teeth, and the king’s beard was held, not by mortal hands, 
but by two claws. At last a hoarse voice sounded from the 
depths. “Your trouble is all in vain. King Kojata. I 
will only let you go on condition that you give me some- 
thing you know nothing about and which you will find on 
your return home.” 

The king didn’t pause to ponder long. “For what,” 
thought he, “could be in my palace without my knowing 
about it ? The thing is absurd.” Se he answered quickly : 
“ Yes, I promise that you shall have it.” 

The voice replied : “ Very well ; but it will go ill with 
you if you fail to keep your promise.” Then the claws re- 
laxed their hold and the face disappeared in the depths. 
The king drew his chin out of the water and shook him- 
self like a dog; then he mounted his horse and rode 
thoughtfully home with his retinue. When they ap- 
proached the capital all the people came out to meet them 
with joy and acclamation, and when the king reached his 
palace the queen met him on the threshold. Beside her 
stood the prime minister, holding a little cradle in his 
hands, in which lay a newborn child as beautiful as the 
day. Then the whole thing dawned on the king, and 
groaning deeply he muttered to himself, “ So this is what 
I did not know about,” and the tears rolled down his 
cheeks. All the courtiers standing round were much 
amazed at the king’s grief, but no one dared to ask him the 
cause of it. He took the child in his arms and kissed it 
tenderly; then laying it in its cradle, he determined to 
control his emotion and began to reign again as before. 

The secret of the king remained a secret, though his 
grave, care-worn expression escaped no one’s notice. In 
21T 


the constant dread that his child would be taken from him, 
poor Kojata knew no rest night or day. However, time 
went on and nothing happened. Days and months and 
years passed, and the prince grew up into a beautiful youth, 
and at last the king himself forgot all about the incident 
that had happened so long ago. 

One day the prince went out hunting, and going in pur- 
suit of a wild boar he soon lost the other huntsmen, and 
found himself quite alone in the middle of a dark wood. 
The trees grew so thick and near together that it was 
almost impossible to see through them, only straight in 
front of him. lay a little patch of meadowland, overgrown 
with thistles and rank weeds, in the centre of which a leafy 
lime-tree reared itself. Suddenly a rustling sound was 
heard in the hollow of the tree, and an extraordinary old 
man with green eyes and chin crept out of it. 

“ A fine day, Prince Milan/’ he said. “ You’ve kept me 
waiting a good number of years. It was high time for you 
to come and visit.” 

“ Who are. you in the way of wonder ? ” demanded the 
astonished prince. 

“ You’ll find out soon enough, but in the meantime do 
as I bid you. Greet your father King Kojata from me, 
and don’t forget to remind him of his debt. The time has 
long passed since it was due, but now he will have to pay 
it. Farewell for the present. We shall meet again.” 

With these words the old man disappeared into the tree, 
and the prince returned home rather startled and told his 
father all that he had seen and heard. 

The king grew as white as a sheet when he heard the 
prince’s story and said : “ Woe is me, my son ! The time 
has come when we must part.” And with a heavy heart he 
told the prince what had happened at the time of his birth. 

“ Don’t worry or distress yourself, dear father,” an- 
swered Prince Milan. "Things are never as bad as they 
218 


look. Only give me a horse for my journey, and I’ll wager 
you’ll soon see me back again.” 

The king gave him a beautiful charger, with golden stir- 
rups and a sword. The queen hung a little cross around 
his neck, and after much weeping and lamentation the 
prince bade them all farewell and set forth on his jour- 
ney. 

He rode straight on for two days, and on the third day 
he came to a lake as smooth as glass and as clear as crys- 
tal. Hot a breath of wind moved, not a leaf stirred. All 
was as silent as the grave; only on the still bosom of the 
lake thirty ducks, with brilliant plumage, swam about in 
the water. Hot far from the shore Prince Milan noticed 
thirty little white garments lying on the grass, and dis- 
mounting from his horse he crept down under the high bul- 
rushes, took one of the garments, and hid himself with it 
behind the bushes which grew round the lake. The ducks 
swam all over the place, dived down into the depths and 
rose again, and glided through the waves. At last tired of 
disporting themselves, they swam to the shore, and twenty- 
nine of them put on their little white garments and in- 
stantly turned into so many maidens. Then they finished 
dressing and disappeared. Only the thirtieth little duck 
couldn’t come to the land. It swam close about the shore, 
and giving out a piercing cry it stretched its neck up 
timidly, gazed wildly around, and then dived under again. 
Prince Milan’s heart was so moved with pity for the poor 
little creature that he came out from behind the bulrushes, 
to see if he could be of any help. As soon as the duck 
perceived him it cried in a human voice : “ Oh, dear 

Prince Milan, for the love of Heaven give me back my gar- 
ment, and I will be so grateful to you.” The prince laid 
the little garment on the bank beside her and stepped back 
into the bushes. In a few seconds a beautiful girl in a 
white robe stood before him, so fair and sweet and young 
219 


that no pen could describe her. She gave the prince her 
hand and spoke. 

“ Many thanks, Prince Milan, for your courtesy. I am 
the daughter of a wicked magician and my name is Hya- 
cinthia. My father has thirty young daughters and is a 
mighty ruler in the under world, with many castles and 
great riches. He has been expecting you for ages, but you 
need have no fear if you will only follow my advice. As 
soon as you come into the presence of my father, throw 
yourself at once on the ground and approach him on your 
knees. Don’t mind if he stamps furiously with his feet 
and curses and swears. I’ll attend to the rest, and in the 
meantime we had better be off.” 

With these words the beautiful Hyacinthia stamped on 
the ground with her little foot, and the earth opened and 
the} both sank down into the lower world. 

The palace of the magician was all hewn out of a single 
carbuncle, lighting up the whole surrounding region, and 
Prince Milan walked into it gaily. 

The magician sat on a throne, a sparkling crown on his 
head ; his eyes blazed like a green fire, and instead of hands 
he had claws. As soon as Prince Milan entered he flung 
himself on his knees. The magician stamped loudly with 
his feet, glared frightfully out of his green eyes, and cursed 
so loudly that the whole under world shook. But the 
prince, mindful of the counsel he had been given, wasn’t 
the least afraid, and approached the throne still on his 
knees. At last the magician laughed aloud and said: 
“ You rogue, you have been well advised to make me laugh. 
I won’t be your enemy any more. Welcome to the under- 
world! All the same, for your delay in coming here we 
must demand three services from you. Por to-day you may 
go, but to-morrow I shall have something more to say to 
you.” 

Then two servants led Prince Milan to a beautiful 
220 


apartment, and he lay down fearlessly on the soft bed that 
had been prepared for him and was soon fast asleep. 

Early the next morning the magician sent for him and 
said : “ Let’s see now what you’ve learned. In the first 
place, you must build me a palace to-night, the roof of 
purest gold, the walls of marble, and the windows of crys- 
tal; all round you must lay out a beautiful garden, with 
fish-ponds and artistic waterfalls. If you do all this I will 
reward you richly; but if you don’t you shall lose your 
head.” 

“ Oh, you wicked monster ! ” thought Prince Milan, “ you 
might as well have put me to death at once.” Sadly he re- 
turned to his room, and with bent head sat brooding over 
his cruel fate till evening. When it grew dark a little bee 
flew by, and knocking at the window it said : “ Open and 
let me in.” 

Milan opened the window quickly, and as soon as the bee 
had entered it changed to the beautiful Hyacinthia. 

“ Good-evening, Prince Milan. Why are you so sad ? ” 

“ How can I help being sad ? Your father threatens me 
with death, and I see myself already without a head.” 

“ And what have you made up your mind to do ? ” 

“ There’s nothing to be done, and after all I suppose one 
can only die once.” 

“ How, don’t be so foolish, my dear prince, but keep up 
your spirits, for there is no need to despair. Go to bed, and 
when you wake up to-morrow morning the palace will be 
finished. Then you must go all round it, giving a tap here 
and there on the walls to look as if you had just finished it.” 

And so it all turned out just as she had said. As soon 
as it was daylight Prince Milan stepped out of his room and 
found a palace which was quite a work of art down to the 
very smallest detail. The magician himself was not a little 
astonished at its beauty and could hardly believe his eyes. 

“ Well, you certainly are a splendid workman,” he said 
221 


to the prince. “ I see you are very clever with your hands. 
Now I must see if you are equally accomplished with your 
head. I have thirty daughters in my house, all beautiful 
princesses. To-morrow I will place the whole thirty in a 
row. You must walk past them three times, and the third 
time you must show me which is my youngest daughter 
Hyacinthia. If you don’t guess rightly, you shall lose your 
head.” 

“This time you’ve made a mistake,” thought Prince 
Milan, and going to his room he sat down at the window. 
“ Just fancy my not recognising the beautiful Hyacinthia I 
Why, that’s the easiest thing in the world.” 

“ Not so easy as you think,” cried the little bee, who was 
flying past. “ If I weren’t to help you you’d never guess. 
We are thirty sisters so exactly alike that our own father 
can hardly distinguish us apart.” 

“ Then what am I to do ? ” asked Prince Milan. 

“Listen,” answered Hyacinthia. “You will recognise 
me by a tiny fly I shall have on my left cheek, but be 
careful, for you might easily make a mistake.” 

The next day the magician again commanded Prince 
Milan to be led before him. His daughters were all ar- 
ranged in a straight row in front of him, dressed exactly 
alike, and with their eyes bent on the ground. 

“Now, you genius,” said the magician, “look at these 
beauties three times, and then tell us which is the Princess 
Hyacinthia.” 

Prince Milan went past them and looked at them 
closely. But they were all so precisely alike that they 
looked like one face reflected in thirty mirrors, and the fly 
was nowhere to be seen ; the second time he passed them he 
still saw nothing; but the third time he perceived a little 
fly stealing down one cheek, causing it to blush a faint pink. 
Then the prince seized the girl’s hand and cried out. 
“ This is the Princess Hyacinthia ! ” 

222 


“ You’re right again/’ said the magician in amazement ; 
“ but I’ve still another task for you to do. Before this can- 
dle, which I shall light, burns to the socket, you must have 
made me a pair of boots reaching to my knees. If they 
aren’t finished in that time, off comes your head.” 

The prince returned to his room in despair. Then the 
princess Hyacinthia came to him, once more changed into 
the likeness of a bee, and asked him: "Why so sad. 
Prince Milan?” 

"How can I help being sad? Your father has set me 
this time an impossible task. Before a candle which he 
has lit burns to the socket I am to make a pair of boots. 
But what does a prince know of shoemaking? If I can’t 
do it I lose my head.” 

" And what do you mean to do ? ” asked Hyacinthia. 

"Well, what is there to be done? What he demands I 
can’t and won’t do, so he must just make an end of me.” 

" Not so, dearest. I love you dearly and you shall marry 
me, and I’ll either save your life or die with you. We 
must fly now as quickly as we can, for there is no other way 
of escape.” 

With these words she breathed on the window, and her 
breath froze on the pane. Then she led Milan out of the 
room with her, shut the door, and threw the key away. 
Hand in hand they hurried to the spot where they had de- 
scended into the lower world, and at last reached the banks 
of the lake. Prince Milan’s charger was still grazing on the 
grass which grew near the water. The horse no sooner 
recognised its master than it neighed loudly with joy, and 
springing toward him it stood as if rooted to the ground, 
while Prince Milan and Hyacinthia jumped on its back. 
Then it sped onward like an arrow from a bow. 

In the meantime the magician was waiting impatiently 
for the prince. Enraged by the delay, he sent his servants 
to fetch him, for the appointed time was past. 

223 


The servants came to the door, and finding it locked they 
knocked; but the frozen breath on the window replied in 
Prince Milan’s voice: “I am coming directly.” With 
this answer they returned to the magician. But when 
the prince (Ad not appear, after a time he sent his servants 
a second time to bring him. The frozen breath always 
gave the same answer, but the prince never came. At last 
the magician lost all patience and commanded the door to 
be burst open. But when the servants did so they found 
the room empty, and the frozen breath laughed aloud. Out 
of his mind with rage, the magician ordered the prince to be 
pursued. 

Then a wild chase began. “I hear horses’ hoofs be- 
hind us,” said Hyacinthia to the prince. Milan sprang 
from the saddle, put his ear to the ground, and listened. 
“ Yes,” he answered, “ they are pursuing us and are quite 
close.” “Then no time must be lost,” said Hyacinthia, 
and she immediately turned herself into a river. Prince 
Milan into an iron bridge, and the charger into a blackbird. 
Behind the bridge the road branched off into three ways. 

The magician’s servants hurried after the fresh tracks, 
but when they came to the bridge they stood, not knowing 
which way to take, as the footprints stopped suddenly and 
there were three paths for them to choose from. In fear 
and trembling they returned to tell the magician what had 
happened. He flew into a dreadful rage when he saw them 
and screamed out : “ Oh, you fools ! Go and bring them 
back to me at once, or it will be the worse for you.” 

Then the pursuit began afresh. “ I hear horses’ hoofs,” 
sighed Hyacinthia. The prince dismounted and put his 
ear to the ground. “ They are hurrying after us and are al- 
ready quite near.” In a moment Princess Hyacinthia had 
changed herself, the prince, and his charger into a thick 
wood where a thousand paths and roads crossed each other. 
Their pursuers entered the forest, but searched in vain for 
224 : 


Prince Milan and his bride. At last they found themselves 
back at the same spot they had started from, and in de- 
spair they returned once more with empty hands to the ma- 
gician. 

“Then Fll go after the wretches myself,” he shouted. 
“ Bring a horse at once. They shan’t escape me.” 

Once more the beautiful Hyacinthia murmured: “I 
hear horses’ hoofs quite near.” And the prince answered : 
“ They are pursuing us hotly and are quite close.” 

“We are lost now, for it is my father himself. But at 
the first church he comes to his power ceases. He may 
chase us no further. Hand me your cross.” 

Prince Milan loosened from his neck the little gold cross 
his mother had given him and as soon as Hyacinthia 
grasped it she had changed herself into a church, Milan into 
a monk, and the horse into a belfry. They had hardly 
done this when the magician and his servants rode up. 

“Did you see no one pass by on horseback, reverend 
father ? ” he asked the monk. 

“ Prince Milan and Princess Hyacinthia have just gone 
on this minute. They stopped for a few minutes in the 
church to say their prayers, and bade me light this wax 
candle for you and give you their love.” 

“ I’d like to wring their necks,” said the magician, and 
made all haste home, where he had every one of his servants 
beaten to within an inch of their lives. 

Prince Milan rode on slowly with his bride without fear- 
ing any further pursuit. The sun was just setting, and its 
last rays lit up a large city they were approaching. Prince 
Milan was suddenly seized with an ardent desire to enter 
the town. 

“ Oh, my beloved,” implored Hyacinthia, “ please don’t 
go ; for I am frightful and fear some evil.” 

“What are you afraid of?” asked the prince. “We’ll 
only go and look at what’s to be seen in the town for about 
225 


an hour, and then we’ll continue our journey to my father’s 
kingdom.” 

“ The town is easy to get into, but more difficult to get 
out of,” sighed Hyacinthia. “ But let it be as you wish. 
Go, and I will await you here, but I will first change myself 
into a white mile-stone; only I pray you be very careful. 
The king and queen of the town will come out to meet you, 
leading a little child with them. Whatever you do, don’t 
kiss the child, or you will forget me and all that has hap- 
pened to us. I will wait for you here for three days.” 

The prince hurried to the town, but Hyacinthia remained 
behind disguised as a white mile-stone on the road. The 
first day passed, and then the second, and at last the third 
also, but Prince Milan did not return, for he had not taken 
Hyacinthia’s advice. The king and queen came out to 
meet him as she had said, leading with them a lovely 
fair-haired little girl whose eyes shone like two clear stars. 
The child at once caressed the prince, who, carried away by 
its beauty, bent down and kissed it on the cheek. From 
that moment his memory became a blank and he forgot all 
about the beautiful Hyacinthia. 

When the prince did not return poor Hyacinthia wept 
bitterly, and changing herself from a mile-stone into a little 
blue field flower, she said : “ I will grow here on the road- 
side till some passer-by tramples me under foot.” And 
one of her tears remained as a dew-drop and sparkled on the 
little blue flower. 

Now, it happened shortly after this that an old man 
passed by, and seeing the flower he was delighted with its 
beauty. He pulled it up carefully by the roots and car- 
ried it home. Here he planted it in a pot and watered and 
tended it carefully. And now the most extraordinary thing 
happened, for from this moment everything in the old 
man’s house was changed. When he awoke in the morning 
he always found his room tidied and put into such beautiful 
22Q 


order that not a speck of dust was to be found anywhere. 
When he came home at midday he found a table laid out 
with the most dainty food, and he had only to sit down and 
enjoy himself to his heart’s content. At first he was so 
surprised he didn’t know what to think, but after a time 
he grew a little uncomfortable and went to an old witch to 
ask for advice. 

The witch said: “Get up before the cock crows and 
watch carefully till you see something move and then throw 
this cloth quickly over it, and you’ll see what will happen.” 

All night the old man never closed an eye. When the 
first ray of light entered the room he noticed that the little 
blue flower began to tremble, and at last it rose out of the 
pot and flew about the room, put everything in order, swept 
away the dust, and lit the fire. In great haste the old man 
sprang from his bed and covered the flower with the cloth 
the old witch had given him, and in a moment the beauti- 
ful Princess Hyacinthia stood before him. 

“What have you done?” she cried. “Why have you 
called me back to life ? For I have no desire to live since 
my bridegroom, the beautiful Prince Milan, has deserted 
me.” 

“ Prince Milan is just going to be married,” replied the 
old man. “Everything is being got ready for the feast, 
and all the invited guests are flocking to the palace from all 
sides.” 

The beautiful Hyacinthia cried bitterly when she heard 
this; then she dried her tears and went into the town dressed 
as a peasant-woman. She went straight to the king’s 
kitchen, where the white-aproned cooks were running about 
in great confusion. The princess went up to the head cook 
and said : “ Dear cook, please listen to my request, and let 
me make a wedding-cake for Prince Milan.” 

The busy cook was just going to refuse her demand and 
order her out of the kitchen, but the words died on his lips 
227 


when he turned and beheld the beautiful Hyacinthia, and 
he answered politely: “ You have just come in the nick 
of time, fair maiden. Bake your cake, and I myself will 
lay it before Prince Milan.” 

The cake was soon made. The invited guests were al- 
ready thronging round the table, when the head cook en- 
tered the room, bearing a beautiful wedding-cake on a sil- 
ver dish, and laid it before Prince Milan. The guests were 
all lost in admiration, for the cake was quite a work of art. 
Prince Milan at once proceeded to cut it open, when to his 
surprise two white doves sprang out of it, and one of them 
said to the other : “ My dear mate, do not fly away and 
leave me and forget me as Prince Milan forgot his beloved 
Hyacinthia.” 

Milan sighed deeply when he heard what the little dove 
said. Then he jumped up suddenly from the table and ran 
to the door, where he found the beautiful Hyacinthia wait- 
ing for him. Outside stood his faithful charger, pawing 
the ground. Without pausing for a moment, Milan and 
Hyacinthia mounted him and galloped as fast as they could, 
into the country of King Kojata. The king and queen re-^ 
ceived them with such joy and gladness as had never been 
heard of before and they all lived happily for the rest of 
their lives. 


* THE MAGIC FISHBONE 

There was once a king, and he had a queen; and he was 
the manliest of his sex, and she was the loveliest of hers. 
The King was, in his private profession, Under Govern- 

* This is one of five stories originally published in a child’s 
magazine in America for which Charles Dickens received one 
thousand pounds. 


228 


ment. The Queen’s father had been a medical man out of 
town. 

They had nineteen children, and were always having 
more. Seventeen of these children took care of the baby; 
and Alicia, the eldest, took care of them all. Their ages 
varied from seven years to seven months. 

Let us now resume our story. 

One day the king was going to the office, when he stopped 
at the fishmonger’s to buy a pound and a half of salmon 
not too near the tail, which the Queen (who was a careful 
housekeeper) had requested him to send home. Mr. 
Pickles, the fishmonger, said, “ Certainly, sir, is there any 
other article? Good-morning.” 

The King went on towards the office in a melancholy 
mood, for quarterday was such a long way off, and several 
of the dear children were growing out of their clothes. He 
had not proceeded far, when Mr. Pickles’ errand-boy came 
running after him, and said, <c Sir, you didn’t notice the 
old lady in our shop.” 

“ What old lady ? ” enquired the King. “ I saw none.” 

Now, the King had not seen any old lady, because this 
old lady had been invisible to him, though visible to Mr. 
Pickles’ boy. Probably because he messed and splashed the 
water about to that degree, and flopped the pair of soles 
down in that violent manner, that, if she had not been vis- 
ible to him, he would have spoilt her clothes. 

Just then the old lady came trotting up. She was 
dressed in shot-silk of the richest quality, smelling of dried 
lavender. 

“ King Watkins the First, I believe ? ” said the old lady. 

“ Watkins is my name,” replied the King. 

“ Papa, if I am not mistaken, of the beautiful Princess 
Alicia ? ” said the old lady. 

“ And of eighteen other darlings,” replied the King. 

“ Listen. You are going to the office,” said the old lady. 

22 9 


It instantly flashed upon the King that she must be a 
Fairy, or how could she know that? 

“You are right,” said the old lady, answering his 
thoughts, “I am the Good Fairy Grandmarina. Attend. 
When you return home to dinner, politely invite the Prin- 
cess to have some of the salmon you bought just now.” 

“ It may disagree with her,” said the King. 

The old lady became so very angry at this absurd idea, 
that the King was quite alarmed, and humbly begged her 
pardon. 

“We hear too much about this thing disagreeing,” said 
the old lady, with the greatest contempt it was possible to 
imagine. “ Don’t be greedy. I think you want it all your- 
self.” 

The King hung his head under this reproof, and said he 
wouldn’t talk about things disagreeing any more. 

“Be good, then,” said the Fairy Grandmarina, “and 
don’t! When the beautiful Princess consents to partake 
of the salmon — as I think she will — you will find she 
will leave a fish-bone on her plate. Tell her to dry it, and 
to rub it, and to polish it till it shines like mother-of-pearl, 
and to take care of it as a present from me.” 

“ Is that all ? ” asked the King. 

“Don’t be impatient, sir,” returned the Fairy God- 
marina, scolding him severely. “ Don’t catch people short, 
before they have done speaking. Just the way with you 
grown-up persons. You are always doing it.” 

The King again hung his head, and said he wouldn’t do 
60 any more. 

“ Be good then,” said the Fairy Godmarina, “ and don’t ! 
Tell the Princess Alicia, with my love, that the fish-bone is 
a magic present which can only be used once; but that it 
will bring her, that once, whatever she wishes for, PRO- 
YIDE SHE WISHES FOR IT AT THE RIGHT TIME. 
That is the message. Take care of it.” 

230 


The King was beginning, “ Might I ask the reason — ? ” 
when the Fairy became absolutely furious. 

“Will you be good, sir?” she exclaimed, stamping her 
foot on the ground. “ The reason for this, and the reason 
for that, indeed! You are always wanting the reason. 
No reason. There! Hoity toity me! I am sick of your 
grown-up reasons.” 

The King was extremely frightened by the old lady’s 
flying into such a passion, and said he was very sorry to 
have offended her, and he wouldn’t ask for reasons any 
more. 

“ Be good, then, and don’t,” said the old lady. 

With these words, Grandmarina vanished, and the King 
went on and on, till he came to the office. There he wrote 
and wrote and wrote, till it was time to go home again. 
Then he politely invited the Princess Alicia, as the Fairy 
had directed him, to partake of the salmon. And when she 
had enjoyed it very much, he saw the fish-bone on her 
plate, as the Fairy had told him he would, and he delivered 
the Fairy’s message, and the Princess Alicia took care to 
dry the bone, and to rub it, and to polish it till it shone like 
mother-of-pearl. 

And so when the Queen was going to get up in the 
morning, she said, “ Oh, dear me, dear me ; my head, my 
head ! ” and then she fainted away. 

The Princess Alicia, who happened to be looking in at 
the chamber-door, asking about breakfast, was very much 
alarmed when she saw her Eoyal Mamma in this state, and 
she rang the bell for Peggy, which was the name of the 
Lord Chamberlain. But remembering where the smelling- 
bottle was, she climbed on a chair and got it, and after 
that she climbed on another chair by the bedside and held 
the smelling-bottle to the Queen’s nose, and after that she 
jumped down and got some water, and after that she 
jumped up again and wetted the Queen’s forehead, and, in 
231 


short, when the Lord Chamberlain came in, that dear old 
woman said to the little Princess, <( What a Trot you are ! 
I couldn’t have done it better myself ! ” 

But that was not the worst of the good Queen’s ill- 
ness. 0, no! She was very ill indeed, for a long time. 
The Princess Alicia kept the seventeen young Princes and 
Princesses quiet, and dressed and undressed the baby, and 
made the kettle boil, and heated the soup, and swept the 
hearth, and poured out the medicine, and nursed the Queen, 
and did all that she ever could, and was as busy, busy, as 
busy could be. For there were not many servants at the 
Palace, for three reasons; because the King was short of 
money, because a rise in his office never seemed to come, 
and because quarter-day was so far off that it looked almost 
as far off and as little as one of the stars. 

But on the morning when the Queen fainted away, where 
was the magic fish-bone ? Why, there it was in the Prin- 
cess Alicia’s pocket. She had almost taken it out to 
bring the Queen to life again, when she put it back, and 
looked for the smelling-bottle. After the Queen had come 
out of her swoon that morning, and was dozing, the 
Princess Alicia hurried up-stairs to tell a most particular 
secret to a most particularly confidential friend of hers, 
who was a Duchess. People did suppose her to be a Doll ; 
but she was really a Duchess, though nobody knew it ex- 
cept the Princess. 

This most particular secret was a secret about the magic 
fish-bone, the history of which was well known to the 
Duchess, because the Princess told her everything. The 
Princess kneeled down by the bed on which the Duchess 
was lying, full-dressed and wide awake, and whispered 
the secret to her. The Duchess smiled and nodded. Peo- 
ple might have supposed that she never smiled and nodded, 
but she often did, though nobody knew it except the 
Princess. 


232 


Then, the Princess Alicia hurried downstairs again, to 
keep watch in the Queen’s room. She often kept watch by 
herself in the Queen’s room; but every evening, while the 
illness lasted, she sat there watching with the King. And 
every evening the King sat looking at her with a cross look, 
wondering why she never brought out the magic fish-bone. 
As often as she noticed this, she ran upstairs, whispered the 
secret to the Duchess again, and said to the Duchess be- 
sides, “ They think we children never have a reason or a 
meaning ! ” And the Duchess, though the most fashion- 
able Duchess that ever was heard of, winked her eye. 

“ Alicia,” said the King, one evening when she wished 
him good-night. 

“ Yes, Papa.” 

“ What is become of the magic fish-bone ? ” 

“ In my pocket. Papa.” 

“ I thought you had lost it?” 

“ 0, no. Papa.” 

“ Or forgotten it? ” 

“No, indeed, Papa.” 

And so another time the dreadful little snapping pug-dog 
next door made a rush at one of the young Princes as he 
stood on the steps coming home from school, and terrified 
him out of his wits and he put his hand through a pane of 
glass, and bled, bled, bled. When the seventeen other 
young Princes and Princesses saw him bleed, bleed, bleed, 
they were terrified out of their wits too, and screamed them- 
selves black in their seventeen faces all at once. But the 
Princess Alicia put her hands all over their seventeen 
mouths, one after another, and persuaded them to be 
quiet because of the sick Queen. And then she put the 
wounded Princes’ hand in a basin of fresh cold water, while 
they stared with their twice seventeen are thirty-four, put 
down four and carry three eyes, and then she looked in the 
hand for bits of glass, and there were fortunately no bits 
233 


of glass there. And then she said to two chubby-legged 
Princes who were sturdy though small, “ Bring me in the 
Royal rag-bag; I must snip and stitch and cut and con- 
trive.” So those two young Princes tugged at the Royal 
rag-bag and lugged it in, and the Princess Alicia sat down 
on the floor with a large pair of scissors and a needle and 
thread, and snipped and stitched and cut and contrived, 
and made a bandage and put it on, and it fitted beautifully, 
and so when it was done she saw the King, her Papa look- 
ing on by the door. 

“ Alicia/’ 

“ Yes, Papa.” 

“ What have you been doing ? ” 

“ Snipping, stitching, cutting and contriving, Papa.” 

“ Where is the magic fish-bone ? ” 

“ In my pocket. Papa.” 

"I thought you had lost it?” 

“ 0, no. Papa.” 

“ Or forgotten it ? ” 

“No, indeed. Papa.” 

After that, she ran up-stairs to the Duchess and told 
her what had passed, and told her the secret over again, 
and the Duchess shook her flaxen curls and laughed with 
her rosy lips. 

Well ! and so another time the baby fell under the grate. 
The seventeen young Princes and Princesses were used to 
it, for they were almost always falling under the grate or 
down the stairs, but the baby was not used to it yet, and it 
gave him a swelled face and black eye. The way the poor 
little darling came to tumble was, that he slid out of the 
Princess Alicia’s lap just as she was sitting in a great 
coarse apron that quite smothered her, in front of the 
kitchen-fire, beginning to peel the turnips for the broth for 
dinner; and the way she came to be doing that was, that 
the King’s cook had run away that morning with her own 
234 



“ While they stared with their twice seventeen are thirty-four, 
put down four and carry three, eyes ” 



true love who was a very tall but very tipsy soldier. Then, 
the seventeen young Princes and Princesses, who cried at 
everything that happened, cried and roared. But the 
Princess Alicia (who couldn’t help crying a little herself) — 
quietly called to them to be still, on account of not throwing 
back the Queen upstairs, who was fast getting well, and said, 
“ Hold your tongues, you wicked little monkeys, every one 
of you, while I examine baby ! ” Then she examined baby, 
and found that he hadn’t broken anything, and she held a 
cold iron to his poor dear eye, and smoothed his poor dear 
face, and he presently fell asleep in her arms. Then, she 
said to the seventeen Princes and Princesses, “ I am afraid 
to lay him down yet, lest he should wake and feel pain, 
be good, and you shall all be cooks.” They jumped for 
joy when they heard that, and began making themselves 
cooks’ caps out of old newspapers. So to one she gave the 
salt-box, and to one she gave the barley, and to one she 
gave the herbs, and to one she gave the turnips, and to 
one she gave the carrots, and to one she gave the onions, 
and to one she gave the spice-box, till they were all cooks, 
and all running about at work, she sitting in the middle 
smothered in the great coarse apron, nursing baby. By 
and by the broth was done, and the baby woke up smiling 
like an angel, and was trusted to the sedatest Princess to 
hold, while the other Princes and Princesses were squeezed 
into a far-off corner to look at the Princess Alicia, turning 
out the sauce — full of broth, for fear (as they were al- 
ways getting into trouble) they should get splashed and 
scalded. When the broth came tumbling out, steaming 
beautifully, and smelling like a nosegay good to eat, they 
clapped their hands. That made the baby clap his hands ; 
and that, and his looking as if he had a comic toothache, 
made all the Princes and Princesses laugh. So the 
Princess Alicia said, “ Laugh and be good, and after din- 
ner we will make him a nest on the floor in a corner, and 
235 


he shall sit in his nest and see a dance of eighteen cooks” 
That delighted the young Princes and Princesses, and they 
ate up all the broth, and washed up all the plates and 
dishes, and cleared away, and pushed the table into a 
corner, and they in their cooks’ caps, and the Princess 
Alicia in the smothering coarse apron that belonged to the 
cook that had run away with her own true love that was 
the very tall but very tipsy soldier, danced a dance of 
eighteen cooks before the angelic baby, who forgot his 
swelled face -and black eye, and crowed with joy. 

And so then, once more the Princess Alicia saw King 
Watkins, the First, her father, standing in the doorway 
looking on, and he said: “What have you been doing, 
Alicia ? ” 

“ Cooking and contriving, Papa.” 

“ What else have you been doing, Alicia ? ” 

“Keeping the children light-hearted, Papa.” 

“ Where is the magic fish-bone, Alicia ? ” 

“ In my pocket, Papa.” 

“ I thought you had lost it ? ” 

“ 0, no, Papa.” 

“Or forgotten it ? ” 

“ No, indeed, Papa.” 

The King .then sighed so heavily, and seemed so low- 
spirited, and sat down so miserably, leaning his head upon 
his hand, and his elbow upon the kitchen table pushed 
away in the corner, that the seventeen Princes and Prin- 
cesses crept softly out of the kitchen, and left him alone with 
the Princess Alicia and the angelic baby. 

“What is the matter, Papa?” 

“I am dreadfully poor, my child.” 

“ Have you no money at all, Papa? ” 

“ None, my child.” 

“ Is there no way left of getting any, Papa ? ” 

“No way,” said the King. “I have tried very hard, 
236 


and I have tried all ways.” When she heard those last 
words, the Princess Alicia began to put her hand into the 
pocket where she kept the magic fish-bone. 

“ Papa,” said she, “ when we have tried very hard, and 
tried all ways, we must have done our very best.” 

“ No doubt, Alicia.” 

“When we have done our very best. Papa, and that is 
not enough, then I think the right time must have come for 
asking help of others.” This was the very secret connected 
with the magic fish-bone, which she had found out for her- 
self from the good fairy Grandmarina’s words, and which 
she had so often whispered to her beautiful and fashionable 
friend the Duchess. She took out of her pocket the magic 
fish-bone that had been dried and rubbed and polished till 
it shone like mother-of-pearl; and she gave it one little 
kiss and wished it was quarter day. And immediately it 
WAS quarter day; and the King’s quarter’s salary came 
rattling down the chimney, and bounced into the middle of 
the floor. 

But this is not half of what happened, no not a quarter, 
for immediately afterwards the good fairy Godmarina came 
riding in, in a carriage and four (Peacocks), with Mr. 
Pickles’ boy up behind, dressed in silver and gold, with a 
cocked hat, powdered hair, pink silk stockings, a jewelled 
cane, and a nosegay. Down jumped Mr. Pickles’ boy with 
his cocked hat in his hand and handed Grandmarina out, 
and there she stood with her rich shot silk smelling of dried 
lavender, fanning herself with a sparkling fan. 

“ Alicia, my dear,” said this charming old Fairy, “ how 
do you do, I hope I see you pretty well, give me a kiss.” 

The Princess Alicia embraced her, and then Grand- 
marina turned to the King, and said rather sharply: — 
“ Are you good ? ” 

The King said he hoped so. 

“I suppose you know the reason, KOW, why my god- 
237 


Daughter here/’ kissing the Princess again, “ did not ap- 
ply to the fish-bone sooner ? ” said the Fairy. 

The King made her a shy bow. 

“ Ah ! but you didn’t then ! ” said the Fairy. 

The King made her a shyer bow. 

“ Any more reasons to ask for ? ” said the Fairy. 

The King said no, and he was very sorry. “ Be 
good then,” said the Fairy, “and live happy ever after- 
wards.” 

Then, Grandmarina waved her fan, and the Queen came 
in most splendidly dressed, and the seventeen young 
Princes and Princesses, no longer grown out of their 
clothes, came in newly fitted out from top to toe, with tucks 
in everything to admit of its being let out. After that, the 
Fairy tapped the Princess with her fan, and the smother- 
ing coarse apron flew away, and she appeared exquisitely 
dressed, like a little bride, with a wreath of orange-flowers 
and a silver veil. After that, the kitchen dresser changed 
itself into a wardrobe, made of beautiful woods and gold 
and looking-glass, which was full of dresses of all sorts, all 
for her and all exactly fitting her. After that, the an- 
gelic baby came in, running alone, with his face and eye not 
a bit the worse but much the better. Then, Grandmarina 
begged to be introduced to the Duchess, and, when the 
Duchess was brought down many compliments passed be- 
tween them. 

A little whispering took place between the Fairy and the 
Duchess, and then the Fairy said out loud, “ Yes, I thought 
she would have told you.” Grandmarina then turned to 
the King and Queen, and said, “We are going in search 
of Prince Certainpersonio. The pleasure of your company 
is requested at church in half an hour precisely.” So she 
and the Princess Alicia got into the carriage, and Mr. 
Pickles’ boy handed in the Duchess who sat by herself on 
the opposite seat, and then Mr. Pickles’ hoy put up the 
238 


steps and got up behind, and the Peacocks flew away with 
their tails spread. 

Prince Certainpersonio was sitting by himself, eating 
barley-sugar and waiting to be ninety. When he saw the 
Peacocks followed by the carriage, coming in at the win- 
dow, it immediately occurred to him that something un- 
common was going to happen. 

“ Prince,” said Grandmarina, “ I bring you your bride.” 

The moment the Fairy said these words. Prince Certain- 
personio’s face left off being sticky, and his jacket and 
corduroys changed to a peach-bloom velvet, and his hair 
curled, and a cap and feather flew in like a bird and settled 
on his head. He got into the carriage by the Fairy’s invi- 
tation, and there he renewed his acquaintance with the 
Duchess, whom he had seen before. 

In the church were the Prince’s relations and friends, and 
the Princess Alicia’s relations and friends, and the seven- 
teen Princes and Princesses, and the baby, and a crowd of 
the neighbours. The marriage was beautiful beyond ex- 
pression. The Duchess was bridesmaid, and beheld the 
ceremony from the pulpit where she was supported by the 
cushion of the desk. 

Grandmarina gave a magnificent wedding feast after- 
wards, in which there was everything and more to eat, and 
everything and more to drink. The wedding cake was 
delicately ornamented with white satin ribbons, frosted 
silver and white lilies, and was forty-two yards round. 

When Grandmarina had drunk her love to the young 
couple, and Prince Certainpersonio had made a speech, and 
everybody had cried Hip, hip, hip, hurrah! Grandmarina 
announced to the King and Queen that in future there 
would be eight quarter days in every year, except in leap 
year, when there would be ten. She then turnd to Certain- 
personio and Alicia, and said, “ My dears, you will have 
thirty-five children, and they will all be good and beautiful. 

239 


Seventeen of your children will be boys, and eighteen will 
be girls. The hair of the whole of your children will curl 
naturally. They will never have the measles, and will have 
recovered from the whooping-cough before being born.” 

On hearing such good news, everybody cried out, “ Hip, 
hip, hip, hurrah ! ” again. 

“ It only remains,” said Grandmarina in conclusion, “ to 
make an end of the fish-bone.” 

So she took it from the hand of the Princess Alicia, and 
it instantly flew down the throat of the dreadful little snap- 
ping pug-dog next door and choked him, and he expired in 
convulsions. 


DRAKESTAIL 

Drakestail was very little, that is why he was called 
Drakestail, but tiny as he was he had brains, and he knew 
what he was about, for having begun with nothing he ended 
by amassing a hundred crowns. Now the king of the 
country, who was very extravagant and never kept any 
money, having heard that Drakestail had some, went one 
day in his own person to borrow his hoard, and, my word, 
in those days Drakestail was not a little proud of having 
loaned money to the king. But after the first and the sec- 
ond year, seeing that they never dreamed of paying even 
the interest, he became uneasy, so much so that he re- 
solved to go and see his majesty himself, and get repaid. 
So one fine morning Drakestail, very spruce and fresh, 
takes the road, singing : “ Quack, quack, quack, when 
shall I get my money back ? ” 

He had not gone far when he met friend Fox, on his 
rounds that way. 

“ Good-morning, neighbour,” says the friend; “ where 
are you off to so early ? ” 


240 


“ I am going to the king for what he owes me.” 

“ Oh ! take me with you ! ” 

Drakestail said to himself : “ One can’t have too many 

friends.” Aloud says he, “I will, but going on all fours 
you will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small, get into 
my throat, and I will carry you.” 

“ Happy thought ! 99 says friend Fox. 

He takes bag and baggage, and, presto! is gone like a 
letter into the post. 

And Drakestail is off again, all spruce and fresh, still 
singing : “ Quack, quack, quack, when shall I have my 

money back ? ” 

He had not gone far when he met his lady friend, 
Ladder, leaning on her wall. 

“ Good-morning, my duckling,” says the lady friend, 
“ whither away so bold ? ” 

“ I am going to the king for what he owes me.” 

“ Oh ! take me with thee ! ” 

Drakestail said to himself : “ One can’t have too many 

friends.” Aloud says he : “ I will, but then with your 

wooden legs you will soon be tired. Make yourself quite 
small, get into my throat — go into my gizzard and I will 
carry you.” 

“ Happy thought ! ” says my friend. Ladder, and nimble, 
bag and baggage, goes to keep company with friend Fox. 

And “ Quack, quack quack,” Drakestail is off again, sing- 
ing and spruce as before. A little further he meets his 
sweetheart, my friend Eiver, wandering quietly in the sun- 
shine. 

“Thou, my cherub,” says she, “whither so lonesome, 
with arching tail, on this muddy road ? ” 

“ I am going to the king, you know, for what he owes 
me.” 

“ Oh ! take me with thee ! 99 

Drakestail said to himself : “We can’t have too many 
241 


friends/’ Aloud says he: "I will, but you who sleep 
while you walk will soon get tired. Make yourself quite 
small, get into my throat — go into my gizzard and I will 
carry you.” 

" Ah ! happy thought ! ” says my friend River. 

She takes bag and baggage, and glou, glou, glou she takes 
her place between friend Fox and my friend Ladder. 

And " Quack, quack, quack,” Drakestail is off again sing- 
ing. 

A little further on he meets comrade Wasp’s-nest, ma- 
noeuvring his wasps. 

"Well, good-morning, friend Drakestail,” said comrade 
Wasp’s-nest, "where are we bound for, so spruce and 
fresh?” 

" I am going to the king for what he owes me.” 

" Oh ! take me with thee ! ” 

Drakestail said to himself, " One can’t have too many 
friends.” Aloud says he: "I will, but then with your 
battalion to drag along, you will soon be tired. Make 
yourself quite small, go into my throat — get into my 
gizzard and I will carry you.” 

"By Jove! that’s a good idea!” says comrade Wasp’s- 
nest. 

And left file ! he takes the same road to join the others 
with all his party. There was not much room, but by 
closing up a bit they managed. And Drakestail is off again 
singing. 

He arrived thus at the capital, and threaded his way 
straight up the High Street, still running and singing, 
" Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money back ? ” 
to the great astonishment of the good folks, till he came to 
the king’s palace. 

He strikes with the knocker : " Toe ! toe ! ” 

" Who is there ? ” asks the porter, putting his head out of 
the wicket. 


242 


“ ’Tis I, Drakestail. I wish to speak to the king/* 

“ Speak to the king. That’s easily said. The king is 
dining, and will not be disturbed.” 

“ Tell him that it is I, and I have come he well knows 
why.” 

The porter shuts his wicket and goes up to say it to the 
king, who was just sitting down to dinner with a napkin 
round his neck, and all his ministers. 

“ Good, good ! ” said the king, laughing. “ I know what 
it is ! Make him come in, and put him with the turkeys 
and chickens.” 

The porter descends. 

“ Have the goodness to enter” 

“ Good ! ” says Drakestail to himself, “ I shall now see 
how they eat at court.” 

“ This way, this way,” says the porter, “ One step fur- 
ther. There, there you are.” 

“ How ? what ? in the poultry-yard ? ” 

Fancy how vexed Drakestail was ! 

“ Ah! so that’s it,” says he. "Wait! I will compel you 
to receive me. Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my 
money back ? ” But turkeys and chickens are creatures 
who don’t like people that are not as themselves. When 
they saw the new-comer and how he was made, and when 
they heard him crying too, they began to look black at him. 

“ What is it ? what does he want ? ” 

Finally they rushed at him altogether, to overwhelm him 
with pecks. 

“ I am lost ! ” said Drakestail to himself, when by good 
luck he remembers his comrade friend Fox, and he cries: 

u Reynard, Reynard, come out of your earth, 

Or Drakestail’s life is of little worth.” 

Then friend Fox, who was only waiting for these words, 
hastens out, throws himself on the wicked fowls, and 
243 


quick ! quack ! he tears them to pieces ; so much so that at 
the end of five minutes there was not one of them left alive. 
And Drakestail, quite content, began to sing again, “ Quack, 
quack, quack, when shall I get my money back ? ” 

When the king, who was still at table, heard this re- 
frain, and the poultry woman came to tell him what had 
been going on in the } r ard, he was terribly annoyed. 

He ordered them to throw this tail of a drake into the 
well, to make an end of him. 

And it was done as he commanded. Drakestail was in 
despair of getting himself out of such a deep hole, when he 
remembered his friend Ladder. 

"Ladder, Ladder, come out of thy hold, 

Or Drakestail’s days will soon be told.” 

My friend Ladder, who was only waiting for these words, 
hastens out, leans her two arms on the edge of the well, 
then Drakestail climbs nimbly on her back, and hop ! he 
is in the yard, where he begins to sing louder than ever. 

When the king who was still at table and laughing at 
the good trick he had played on his creditor, heard him 
again claiming his money, he became livid with rage. 

He commanded that the furnace should be heated, and 
this tail of a drake thrown into it, because he must be a 
sorcerer. 

The furnace was soon hot, but this time Drakestail was 
not so afraid; he counted on his sweetheart, my friend 
River. 

“ River, River, outward flow, 

Or to death Drakestail must go.” 

My friend River hastens out, and errouf ! throws herself 
into the furnace, which she floods, with all the people who 
had lighted it; after which she flowed growling into the 
hall of the palace to the height of more than four feet. 

And Drakestail, quite content, begins to swim, singing 
244 


deafeningly, “ Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my 
money back ? ” 

The king was still at table, and thought himself quite 
sure of his game; but when he heard Drakestail singing 
again, and when they told him all that had passed, he be- 
came furious and got up from the table brandishing his 
fists. 

“ Bring him here, and I’ll cut his throat ! Bring him 
here quick ! 99 cried he. 

And quickly two footmen ran to fetch Drakestail. 

“ At last,” said the poor chap, going up the great 6tairs, 
“they have decided to receive me.” 

Imagine his terror when on entering he sees the king as 
red as a turkey cock, and all his ministers attending him 
standing sword in hand. He thought this time it was all 
up with him. Happily he remembered that there was 
still one remaining friend, and he cried with dying ac- 
cents : 


w Wasp’s nest, Wasp’s nest, make a sally, 

Or Drakestail nevermore may rally.” 

Hereupon the scene changes. 

“ Bs, bs, bayonet them ! ” The brave Wasp’s-nest rushes 
out with all his wasps. They threw themselves on the 
infuriated king and his ministers, and stung them so 
fiercely in the face that they lost their heads, and not know- 
ing where to hide themselves they all jumped pell-mell 
from the window and broke their necks on the pavement. 

Behold Drakestail much astonished, all alone in the big 
saloon and master of the field. He could not get over it. 

Nevertheless, he remembered shortly what he had come 
for to the palace, and improving the occasion, he set to 
work to hunt for his dear money. But in vain he rum- 
maged in all the drawers; he found nothing; all had been 
spent. 


245 


And ferreting thus from room to room he came at last 
to the one with the throne in it, and feeling fatigued, he 
sat himself down on it to think over his adventure. In 
the meanwhile the people had found their king and his 
ministers with their feet in the air on the pavement, and 
they had gone into the palace to know how it had occurred. 
On entering the throne-room, when the crowd saw that 
there was already some one on the royal seat, they broke 
out in cries of surprise and joy : 

"The King is dead, long live the King! 

Heaven has sent us down this thing.” 

Drakestail, who was no longer surprised at anything, 
received the acclamations of the people as if he had never 
done anything else all his life. 

A few of them certainly murmured that a Drakestail 
would make a fine king; those who knew him replied that 
a knowing Drakestail was a more worthy king than a 
spendthrift like him who was lying on the pavement. In 
short, they ran and took the crown off the head of the 
deceased, and placed it on that of Drakestail, whom it 
fitted like wax. 

Thus he became king. 

“And now,” said he after the ceremony, “ladies and 
gentlemen, let’s go to supper. I am so hungry ! ” 


JOHNNY GLOKE 

Johnny Gloke was a tailor by trade, but like a man of 
spirit he grew tired of his tailoring, and wished to follow 
some other path that would lead to honour and fame. 
But he did not know what to do at first to gain fame and 
fortune, so for a time he was fonder of basking idly in 
246 


the sun than in plying the needle and scissors. One warm 
day as he was enjoying his ease, he was annoyed by 
alightening on his bare ankles. He brought his hand 
down on them with force and killed a goodly number of 
them, on counting the victims of his valour, he was over- 
joyed at his success; his heart rose to the doing of great 
deeds, and he gave vent to his feelings in the saying: 

“Well done! Johnny* Gloke, 

Kilt fifty flies at one stroke.” 

His resolution was now taken to cut out his path to 
fortune and honour. So he took down from its resting- 
place a rusty old sword that had belonged to some of his 
forebears, and set out in search of adventures. After 
travelling a long way, he came to a country that was much 
troubled by two giants whom no one was bold enough to 
meet, and strong enough to overcome. He was soon told 
of the giants, and learned that the king of the country 
had offered a great reward and the hand of his daughter 
in marriage to the man who should rid his land of this 
scourge. John’s heart rose to the deed, and he offered 
himself for the service. The great haunt of the giants 
was a wood, and John set out with his old sword to per- 
form his task. When he reached the wood, he laid him- 
self down to think what course he would follow, for he 
knew how weak he was compared to those he had under- 
taken to kill. He had not waited long, when he saw them 
coming with a wagon to fetch fuel. My! they were big 
ones, with huge heads and long tusks for teeth. Johnny 
hid himself in the hollow of a tree, thinking only of his 
own safety. Feeling himself safe, he peeped out of his 
hiding-place, and watched the two at work. Thus watch- 
ing he formed his plan of action. He picked up a pebble, 
threw it with force at one of them, and struck him a sharp 
blow on the head. The giant in his pain turned at once 
247 


on his companion and blamed him in strong words for 
hitting him. The other denied in anger that he had 
thrown the pebble. John now saw himself on the high- 
way to gain his reward and the hand of the King’s daugh- 
ter. He kept still, and carefully watched for an oppor- 
tunity of striking another blow. He soon found it, and 
right against the giant’s head went another pebble. The 
injured giant fell upon his companion in fury; and the 
two belaboured each other till they were utterly tired out. 
They sat down on a log to breathe, rest, and recover them- 
selves. 

While sitting, one of them said, “ Well, all the King’s 
army was not able to take us, but I fear an old woman with 
rope’s end would be too much for us now.” 

“ If that be so,” said Johnny Gloke, as he sprang, bold 
as a lion, from his hiding-place, “what do you say to 
Johnny Gloke with his old roosty sword ? ” So saying he 
fell upon them, cut off their heads, and returned in 
triumph. He received the King’s daughter in marriage 
and for a time lived in peace and happiness. He never 
told the mode he followed in his dealing with the giants. 

Some time after a rebellion broke out among the sub- 
jects of his father-in-law. John, on the strength of his 
former valiant deed, was chosen to quell the rebellion. 
His heart sank within him, but he could not refuse, and 
so lose his great name. He was mounted on the fiercest 
horse that ever saw sun or wind, and set out on his des- 
perate task. He was not accustomed to ride on horse- 
back, and he soon lost all control of his steed. It galloped 
off at full speed, in the direction of the rebel army. In 
its wild career it passed under the gallows that stood by 
the wayside. The gallows was somewhat old and frail, 
and down it fell on the horse’s neck. Still the horse made 
no stop, but always forward at furious speed towards the 
rebels. On seeing this strange sight approaching towards 
248 


them at such a speed they were seized with terror, and 
cried out to one another, “ There comes Johnny Gloke that 
killed the two giants with the gallows on his horse’s neck 
to hang us all.” They broke their ranks, fled in dismay, 
and never stopped till they reached their homes. Thus 
was Johnny Gloke a second time victorious. So in due 
time he came to the throne and lived a long, happy, and 
good life as King. 


AICHA’S STRATAGEM 

The town of Tlemcen, in Algeria, was under siege, and 
its ill-starred inhabitants were now on the point of starva- 
tion. Daily provisions became more scarce; meat and 
bread fetched unheard-of prices, and in the poorer quarters 
many of the weaker folk had already perished from hun- 
ger. The hospitals were crowded with sick; wherever one 
turned there were scenes of misery and destitution, and 
even the bravest men seemed to have lost all hope. It 
was Tlemcen’s darkest hour. 

In desperation the Mayor summoned a meeting of the 
citizens. 

“My friends,” he said, “ there is nothing for it but to 
surrender the town. ... We have come to the end of 
our resources, and starvation stares us in the face.” 

The men met this announcement in heartbroken silence, 
and the sound of bitter weeping came from the spot where 
wives and mothers clung together in their despair. After 
a moment’s pause a very old woman detached herself from 
her companions. Her name was Aicha, and from her 
wrinkled face looked out a pair of bright keen eyes that 
were far-seeing as an eagle’s. As she came forward they 
flashed with scorn, and her shrunken figure straightened 
itself and grew tall again. 


“ No, no,” she cried, “ we will not give in yet. I have 
a plan by which we can save the town. Our prophet 
Mahomet will help us, if you will hut do as I say; the 
enemy will retreat, and we shall be spared the shame of a 
surrender.” 

So impressed was the Mayor with the earnestness of her 
speech that a glimmer of hope came back to his gloomy 
mind; he motioned the old woman to come nearer. 

“ Tell me your plan, good Aicha,” he commanded. 
“ Speak loudly that all may hear.” 

Eaising her voice until it was borne to the farthest ex- 
tremity of the marketplace, Aicha said briefly: “ First 
you must find me a calf ! ” 

“ A calf ? ” cried the Mayor in amazement. “ Why, the 
last was killed long ago. It would be impossible to obtain 
one now for its weight in gold.” 

But Aicha persisted that a calf should be found and 
her friends and neighbours scattered far and wide to 
search for one. They were presently rewarded by the dis- 
covery of a beautiful milk-white little animal that had 
been hidden away in the cow-shed of an old miser, who 
had thought to fetch a great price for it later on. In 
spite of his protestations it was carried off in triumph, 
and when Aicha saw it her thin lips smiled. 

“Now bring me some grain,” she cried; and at this 
there was a dismayed outcry. 

“ There is none to be had, woman, as you should know,” 
said the Mayor indignantly, afraid that the hope with 
which she had inspired him was but a will-o’-the-wisp. 

“ Search from house to house,” she urged the people, 
and though they shook their heads, they did her bidding, 
with the result that after some hours’ work they brought 
her enough corn to fill a measure. Aicha moistened it to 
increase its bulk, and at once began to feed the hungry 
calf. The Mayor was horrified. 

250 


“ What terrible waste ! ” he exclaimed. “ Don’t yon 
know that even the children are starving, and that the 
sick in the hospitals are without food? How dare you 
squander thus that precious grain?” 

Aicha went on feeding the calf as if she had not heard, 
until the threatening mien of the Mayor compelled her to 
speak. 

“ Give me my way,” she pleaded eagerly, “ and the 
enemy will retreat.” So he shrugged his shoulders and 
let her be. 

When the calf had emptied the measure, Aicha led it 
to the gates of the city, and, followed by a wondering 
crowd, she commanded the sentry to open the gates for 
her. This he very properly refused to do until the Mayor 
had come in person to enforce the order. When the gates 
were at last unlocked, Aicha pushed out the calf, which 
at once began to browse on the short grass outside the 
ramparts. The enemy scarcely allowed it to enjoy a 
mouthful, however, for it was at once seized by a posse 
of soldiers, who carried it to their camp rejoicing. The 
King and his generals stared as though they could hardly 
believe the evidence of their eyes. 

“ I thought that the town was starving,” exclaimed His 
Majesty, looking much perturbed, “but if this were the 
case the citizens would most certainly have killed this 
beautiful calf.” 

“ It is rather lean,” remarked one of the nobles. “ Still 
Your Majesty is right. They must be better provisioned 
than we ourselves or they would have killed and eaten it 
long before now.” 

The troops were naturally greatly discouraged by this 
new aspect of affairs, and, in order to please them, the 
King decreed that as it was some time since they had eaten 
fresh meat, they should have the calf for their own use, 
and make a feast of it. They killed it joyfully, for they 
251 


too were on short commons, and when they found inside it 
undigested corn, they were more surprised than ever at 
the resources of Tlemcen. The King grew very grave 
when this was reported to him, and at once summoned his 
Generals. 

“ If the townspeople have grain to spare for their cat- 
tle,” he pointed out, "it is we, and not they, who will 
perish with hunger, if the siege be not soon raised.” 

The Generals sadly agreed ; already discontent w T as 
brooding amidst the soldiers and their officers knew there 
was danger of mutiny. 

“ There is nothing for it but to retreat,” they sighed, 
and the news ran like wildfire through the camp. 

That night, as Aicha had prophesied, the enemy dis- 
appeared, and when morning came the plains were empty. 
Thanks to her stratagem, the town was saved. The grate- 
ful citizens carried her on their shoulders through all the 
principal streets, amidst loud acclamations from the popu- 
lace, and the Mayor himself took steps to ensure that the 
rest of her life should be spent in comfort. 


A SLICE OF TONGUE 

Omer was a lazy fellow. There could be no doubt of this, 
since year after year he refused to bestir himself, and 
still lived on with his parents. His sunny temper and 
merry ways made them forget his many faults, and though 
his father often reproached him for not making a home 
for himself, as other young men were doing, he only 
laughed good-humouredly, and kissed his mother. 

“Why should I make a home for myself,” he asked, 
“ when I am far happier here than I could be elsewhere ? ” 
252 


His mother smiled, well satisfied, for her handsome boy 
was the very apple of her eye. 

The years went on, and the time came when the two old 
folk slept side by side beneath the grass. Omer was left 
alone, and for the first time in his life knew what it was 
to be really miserable. His honest grief became him so 
well that every one was sorry for him, and many a neigh- 
bour offered him bite and sup, and strove to comfort him 
with homely sayings. 

It was late now for Omer to remember his father’s 
advice, but still he did so. The first step to take, it 
seemed to him, was to get married, and accordingly, when 
the violence of his grief had somewhat worn off, he con- 
sidered the various maidens of the village. There was 
Eosalie, who sang like a bird, and Greta, who danced 
divinely, and was so fair of face that the roses in her win- 
dow blushed with envy. Neither Eosalie nor Greta, how- 
ever, particularly attracted him, and his fancy fell on 
Fatima, who was somewhat shy, and of a beauty less pro- 
nounced than that of her rivals. But Fatima’s eyes were 
the very colour of his dear mother’s, and he fancied he 
saw in them the same sweet gleam of affection that had 
made his home a haven of joy. 

Fatima, for her part, had long loved him in secret, but 
she wisely determined not to accept his suit until he could 
provide for her. 

“It is time you began to work, dear Omer,” she said, 
repeating his father’s words. “ I will gladly be your wife 
when you can bring me thirty purses of gold, but not be- 
fore. We cannot live on air, and it would not be fitting 
that your wife should work for you.” 

Poor Omer shrugged his shoulders. What was he to 
do? His well-shaped hands had learned no craft, and 
without capital it was impossible to start a business. In 
253 


his perplexity he thought of a rich Jew who often made 
loans to worthy tradesmen who found themselves in diffi- 
culties, and accordingly he repaired to this good man. 

Issachar eyed him shrewdly. “You say you will pay 
me,” he remarked, “but when? I know you well, young 
Omer. You are your father’s son, but he was industri- 
ous, and you are idle. How can I be certain that you in- 
tend to work?” 

Omer assured him that once he was married to Fatima 
he would leave no stone unturned to win a fortune. 

“ Lend me those thirty purses of gold/’ he urged, “ and 
you shall see.” 

The Jew had no love for him in his heart, since he 
himself had looked upon Fatima with envious eyes, but at 
last he agreed to advance the money. 

“ Before I do so,” he said, “ you must sign this.” And 
he laid before him a document to the effect that if he, 
Omer, did not repay Issachar the thirty purses of gold 
within seven years, the Jew should cut off a slice of his 
tongue to the weight of a drachm. 

Light-hearted Omer signed the bond without the least 
demur. With Fatima for his wife, he thought to himself 
joyfully, he could do anything, and long before the seven 
years were expired would be in a position to repay twice 
thirty purses of gold. He set about his arrangements for 
the wedding in the highest of spirits, and spent so much 
in Fatima’s honour that before he knew it, half the money 
the Jew had lent him had disappeared. 

“Never mind,” he thought to himself, “I shall soon 
make more.” When the honeymoon was over, he opened 
a shop for such necessities as brooms, tobacco, salt, and 
cheese, since he knew that, whatever his neighbours could 
do without, they must have these. 

Greatly to every one’s surprise, for Omer’s laziness was 
pioverbial, the shop did well. Fatima loved her husband 
254 


dearly, and though she found it impossible to keep him 
up to her own high standard of industry, she managed to 
induce him to give the shop at least a certain amount of 
attention, and when he slunk off to lie on his back in some 
green meadow and look at the sky and dream great dreams, 
she took his place, and proved so willing and accommodat- 
ing a saleswoman that customers often chose the hour for 
shopping when they knew that Omer would be away. In 
the long knitted purse hidden under her mattress was a 
shining store of silver pieces, and but for Omer's extrava- 
gance, there would have been many more. 

It was well for the little household that Fatima was 
so clever a manager. Towards the end of the seventh 
year bad times came to the village, and no one had any 
money to spend. With a sudden shock Omer realised that 
it would be impossible for him to pay back Issachar, and 
the thought plunged him into the deepest gloom. He 
could not sleep for thinking what it would feel like to 
have a slice cut off his tongue, and, hearing him sigh so 
frequently, Fatima insisted on his telling her what was 
wrong. 

“ If I had only known,” she cried, “ how you obtained 
those thirty purses of gold, I would never have allowed 
you to touch them.” 

This was all she said by way of reproach, and Omer 
had never loved her more than he did in the dark days 
that followed, when both went silently about their work 
with down-bent heads and sombre eyes. 

One evening at sunset Fatima thought of a plan. 
Dividing her poor little savings into three portions, she 
wrapped one of these in a silken square, and called at the 
Cadi's house. Making a deep obeisance, she laid the 
money at his feet, and left without a word. This she did 
on the second and the third night also, and as she was 
leaving for the last time the Cadi stopped her. 

255 


“ What would you have of me ? ” he asked her kindly. 

“ 0 Cadi,” she responded, “ grant me but this one boon. 
Let me just for an hour sit in your robes on the judgment 
seat on Friday, and I will bless you for the rest of my 
life.” 

The Cadi would have refused outright, but Fatima was 
still a handsome woman, and the beautiful eyes that were 
raised to his so pleadingly were soft as velvet. 

“It shall be as you wish,” he said at last, “but I shall 
stand behind the screen and listen to all you say. If 
during that hour your judgments are not just ones, I 
shall reverse them, and turn you out of the court as an 
impostor.” 

Fatima thanked him with all her heart, and the follow- 
ing Friday saw her adorned in the Cadi’s robes, and sit- 
ting in his place. 

The first case to be brought forward was that of Issa- 
char and Omer. The shrunken face of the Jew was 
alight with malicious triumph. Now, at last, he would 
be avenged for the slight that the fair Fatima had put 
upon him in days gone by. Grinning with delight, he 
listened to Omer’s confession that he could not produce 
the gold, and hastened to demand that he should pay the 
penalty. 

“You say well,” said Fatima. “He cannot pay you, 
and you are therefore entitled to a slice of his tongue. 
Have you a razor, Issachar ? ” 

The Jew produced one eagerly, and Omer’s brow grew 
pale as death as he saw him feeling the sharp edge, and 
noted his fiendish glee. He bore himself bravely, never- 
theless, and Fatima felt proud of her husband as he 
quietly advanced to await the Jew’s pleasure. 

“ Be careful ! ” she cautioned Issachar, “ that you 
do not draw a drop of blood, for this the bond does not 
entitle you to do. If you cut off either more or less than 
256 


one single drachm, you will be punished with the utmost 
rigour of the law.” 

It was now for Issachar to turn pale and tremble. 
There was such decision in the Cadi’s voice that he knew 
it would be useless to appeal, and, making a great show 
of magnanimity, he declared that in consideration of 
kindness shown him by Omer’s father in the past he would 
forgive the debt of his son. 

“ The matter cannot end this way ! ” replied the Cadi 
sternly. “You must keep to the bond. Cut off immedi- 
ately one drachm of Omer’s tongue, neither more nor 
less.” 

Issachar, now thoroughly alarmed, and fearful of his 
own life, fell on his knees, and offered a ransom of thirty 
purses of gold that he might go free without attempting 
so impossible a task. As the Cadi still preserved a sig- 
nificant silence, he added that he would make no further 
claim upon Omer for the debt he had incurred. 

“It is well,” said the Cadi, and this declaration was 
promptly entered in the books. 

The true Cadi was greatly amused at Fatima’s strata- 
gem, and refused to touch the thirty purses of gold that 
Issachar had paid into the court. 

“ They are yours, 0 wise woman ! ” he said with a 
gracious smile, and Fatima hastened home in her own 
attire. 

Shortly afterwards her husband appeared, looking very 
subdued after the ordeal through which he had passed, 
and eager to tell her what had happened. He lost no 
time in describing the scene in court. 

“That Cadi is not only a clever judge,” he said, “but 
a handsome fellow to boot. You should have seen the 
way that his eyes sparkled when Issachar paid him the 
gold.” 

“Was he as handsome as I am?” laughed Fatima 
257 


softly, and to Omer’s amazement she showed him the 
thirty purses forfeited by his enemy. He wept with joy 
when he heard how she had saved him by her woman’s 
wit, and from that day forward he became so industrious 
that fathers held him up as an example to their sons. 


BROTHER BERNARD 

On the banks of the Rhine stood a large monastery, where 
dwelt a company of monks. These holy men were not 
only distinguished for sanctity, but also for their wisdom 
and learning, and one of the foremost was Brother Ber- 
nard, whom all reverenced for his piety. From far and 
near students came to consult him, and his words were 
quoted as if he were an oracle. 

In spite of his holiness, however. Brother Bernard had 
serious misgivings as to the state of his own soul. He 
could not imagine himself living in Paradise for ever 
without becoming weary of it. 

“ Alas ! ” he cried, “ we tire of everything upon this 
earth, and I fear that even an eternity of bliss would at 
last become monotonous. The vesper hymn is very sweet, 
but I should not care for it unceasingly.” 

He was so tormented by this thought that he could 
neither read nor pray. At the foot of the mountain upon 
which the monastery was built stood a great forest, and 
here he wandered for hours in the shade of the giant trees, 
so absorbed in his reflections that he paid no heed to 
where he trod. At last he prayed that God would work 
some miracle that he might know that life in Heaven 
would neither be dull nor dreary. 

After a while he grew fatigued by his long ramble, and 
looked around to see whence he had come. To his sur- 
258 


prise he found himself in an unknown part of the forest, 
and on reaching a clearing where the sunlight streamed 
on the fallen needles of the pines, he threw himself into 
the midst of their fragrance to rest awhile. Just then a 
little bird, with plumage the colour of the sky itself, 
alighted on the branch above him, and began to sing. So 
pure and exquisite were its notes that Brother Bernard 
listened in ecstasy until the sweet song ceased. As the 
bird vanished, the monk rose from his seat. “Dear me,” 
he cried, “how stiff I am. I must have walked much 
further than I thought.” 

In stooping to brush the pine-needles from his robe he 
noticed that his beard was snowy white, and that his hands 
were wrinkled, like those of an old man. Even the forest 
itself looked changed to him, for the trees were larger, 
and the bushes had disappeared. He wondered if he 
could be dreaming, for otherwise, he thought, his senses 
must be deceiving him. With great difficulty he found his 
way back to the village, where he was surprised to meet 
unfamiliar faces. He rubbed his eyes again and again, 
feeling greatly disturbed. 

“I thought that I knew every one,” he muttered to 
himself, “but here are people whom I never met be- 
fore. Who are they, and why do they stare at me as if 
I were some wild man of the woods, instead of hastening 
to kiss my hand and receive my benediction?” 

He was too weary to question them, however, and made 
his way to the monastery. His astonishment increased 
when he found a stranger in charge of the gate instead 
of good Brother Antoine, wdio had held the office for more 
than fifty years. 

“ Where is the porter ? ” he asked him falteringly, “ and 
what has happened to cause the changes which I see 
around me ? ” 

The Brother looked at him curiously. 

25 9 


“ I do not know what you mean/’ he said, “ for I have 
been porter here for thirty years, and I can assure you 
that there have been no changes in my time.” 

“ Then what can have happened to me ? ” exclaimed the 
bewildered monk. “1 went out this morning to walk in 
the forest, and on my return I find no trace of my old 
comrades.” 

“ Do you not recognise me ? ” he asked. “ Is there no 
one here who knows Brother Bernard ? ” 

“ e Brother Bernard 5 ?” eaid the oldest reflectively. 
“ We have no Brother of that name in the monastery now, 
but I remember having read of him in our chronicles. He 
was a most holy man, with the simple faith of a child. 
One morning, they say, he quitted the monastery and went 
into the forest that he might meditate and pray with 
nothing between him and the floor of Heaven. He never 
returned, and though a diligent search was made, no trace 
of him could he found. It was thought that he had been 
carried up to the skies, like the prophet Elijah, in a 
chariot of fire: a fitting end to his life of sanctity.” 

“How long ago was this?” asked Brother Bernard 
tremblingly. 

“ A thousand years,” said the old monk. “ You may 
see by our hooks that this is so. 55 

On hearing this Brother Bernard fell on his knees. 

“ God heard my prayer, and worked a miracle, 55 he cried, 
“ that I might have faith. He sent His Bird of Paradise 
to sing to me, and, while I listened, a thousand years 
passed by. Now indeed I believe, and would fain enter 
His Holy Kingdom. 55 

He bowed his head in silence, and when they spoke to 
him again they found that his spirit had passed away. 
The smile on his lips was so full of sweetness that the 
monks marvelled greatly, and they noted with awe that 
his wrinkled face had grown smooth again. 

260 


“ God is good to His Saints/’ murmured one monk. 
“ Amen/’ returned the others solemnly. 


BETTER THAN THAT 

Joseph was one of Austria’s greatest Emperors, and many 
trembled at his frown. The monarchs of other lands paid 
court to him, and he was the envied of all ; but he often grew 
weary of the cares of State, and longed for a more simple 
life than he could live in his palace. His greatest pleas- 
ure at such times was to leave his nobles, and wander 
unattended, so plainly dressed that he might have been 
one of his poorer subjects, through the streets of his grand 
capital. Sometimes he would go for a ramble in the sur- 
rounding country, finding in the company of the wood- 
folk, and the rustling of the forest leaves, far more delight 
than in the gorgeous functions of the palace. 

One Sunday in autumn, when the trees had donned 
their richest garb of red and orange, he determined to go 
for a long drive, and taking an unpretentious buggy and 
one of the fleetest horses in his stable, he set off by himself. 

Though the sky had been cloudless when he started, and 
the people he met were dressed in their best, as if bad 
weather were out of the question, the wind blew up from 
the rainy quarter, and before long a sharp shower made 
him raise the hood of his buggy. The citizens now were 
hurrying to shelter, and he too thought it well to return. 
He had not driven far upon the homeward road when a 
soldier accosted him, little guessing to whom he spoke. 

“ I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, “ but I thought that 
perhaps you would give me a lift, as I should not incon- 
venience you. My uniform is a new one, and I don’t want 
to get it spoiled.” 

He was a fine, handsome young fellow, with a frank and 
261 


open face. The Emperor was much taken by his appear- 
ance, and. invited him to jump in. In a few minutes they 
were chatting together as if they were well acquainted, and 
the soldier treated his new friend to a glowing account of 
a pleasant day he had lately spent with an old comrade. 

“ He gave me a famous dinner, I can tell you,” he con- 
cluded, and the Emperor, much amused, inquired of what 
this had consisted. 

“ Guess,” cried the soldier, chuckling with delight at 
the recollection of his feast. 

“ Cabbage soup, perhaps?” questioned His Majesty with 
an indulgent smile. 

“ ‘ Soup/ indeed ! ” the soldier exclaimed with much 
contempt. “ Better than that; you must guess again.” 

“ A calf’s head, then ? ” said the Emperor. 

“ Better than that, even ! ” was the laughing answer, 
and the same reply was given when the Emperor sug- 
gested a big slice of ham. 

“ Much better than that ! ” cried the soldier trium- 
phantly. “ I had a roast pheasant, and one that I shot my- 
self on His Majesty’s estate, for my friend is now one of 
the Emperor’s game-keepers. It was delicious, and no 
mistake.” 

His companion made no reply, but the soldier chatted 
away quite at his ease, telling him of the aged parents who 
were so proud of him, and the dear little “ Greta ” who 
would one day become his wife. 

“ Where do you live ? ” inquired His Majesty as they 
neared the city. “ The rain had ceased, but I should like 
to drive you home.” 

Much gratified by this further kindness, the soldier 
thanked him warmly, and begged that he would tell him 
his name. 

“ Ah ! it is your turn to guess now,” remarked the Em- 
peror. “Who do you think I am?” 

262 


“ Perhaps you also have something to do with the 
army/’ hazarded the soldier with a searching look. The 
Emperor nodded. 

“You are a private soldier?” was the next guess. 

“ Better than that/’ the Emperor smilingly returned. 

“A Lieutenant, then?” 

“ Better than that ! ” 

“ A Colonel ? ” stammered the soldier, beginning to feel 
alarmed. 

“Better than that, I assure you.” 

“Perhaps, then, you are a General?” the man said 
timidly, and then, in desperation, as the Emperor shook 
his head, he suggested “ a Field-Marshal ? ” 

“ Better than that ! ” said the Emperor once more, and 
the soldier turned pale with terror. 

“ Then you must be His Majesty himself ! ” he gasped, 
and would have sprung from the buggy if the Emperor 
had not prevented him. 

“We will keep to our bargain,” he said, and insisted 
upon driving him right up to his home. On the way he 
gave the young man some good advice that he never for- 
got, and ended by saying, with a kindly twinkle in his 
deep-set eyes: “And be careful in future not to kill 
pheasants before first obtaining the owner’s permission, or 
to tell tales of your friends to the first stranger who comes 
your way. 


THE MOUSE TOWER 

Hatto, Bishop of Mayence, was rich and avaricious. 
Instead of devoting himself to prayer and almsgiving, 
he thought only of increasing his great wealth, and at a 
time when numbers of his people could not obtain enough 
food his money-chests were laden with gold. His farms 
263 


were the most productive in the whole country, and what- 
ever might happen to other folk, he did not seem to suffer. 

One spring the river overflowed, and the low-lying land 
was flooded. The harvest failed, and famine was immi- 
nent. Finding themselves on the point of starvation, the 
villagers went to implore his aid. 

“ Take pity, good Bishop, on our hungry wives and suf- 
fering children/’ they entreated. “ They die with hunger 
while your granaries are full of wheat/’ 

But Bishop Hatto only laughed. 

“ I cannot help that,” he said. “You must look after 
yourselves.” And day after day he made them the same 
answer. 

“My wheat is far too precious,” he said at last, “for 
me to bestow it on hungry rats ! ” 

Even this, however, would not drive them off, for they 
were desperate, and, wearied at length by their impor- 
tunities, Hatto bade them go to one of his largest granaries, 
which happened to be empty, saying that there he would 
meet them and satisfy their demands. 

Now at last there was joy among the starving creatures. 
Their dim eyes brightened, and strength came back to 
their shrunken limbs as they dragged themselves to the 
granary, in which there was soon a large assembly. 

“You shall have bread to-night,” they told their little 
ones, and the children ceased their wailings. 

At the appointed hour Bishop Hatto made his appear- 
ance, accompanied by a number of his servants. His 
cruel lips were pressed tightly together and the fires of 
hatred burned in his deep-set eyes as he surveyed the 
hungry crew through the open doors of the great granary. 
Instead of entering it, he told his servants to pull-to the 
doors, and bar them firmly. When this was done, he 
commanded that the building should be set on fire. 

Meanwhile the hungry men and women were thanking 
264 


God for having softened his heart, and calling down bless- 
ings on his name. Every moment they expected to see 
him enter, but the minutes wore on, and he did not come. 
One of their number threw open a window that they might 
have more air, and as he did so, the Bishop’s rage found 
vent in words. 

“ You have pestered me like rats,” he said, “ and now 
you shall die like rats!” 

As he spoke, the crackling of the flaming walls that 
hemmed them in made his meaning clear. Despite their 
shrieks and appeals for mercy, they were burned alive, 
and though his servants were pale with horror, the Bishop 
calmly surveyed the scene. When the granary was but a 
mass of cinders, he went back to his palace with an easy 
mind to enjoy his luxurious dinner. 

That night his sleep was broken by queer little sounds, 
as if rats and mice were scampering over the floor, and 
nibbling at something they had found. Next morning he 
was annoyed to find that the splendid portrait of himself 
in his Bishop’s robes, which had been painted by a famous 
artist at great expense, was lying on the ground, gnawed 
to shreds. He could see the marks of the rat’s sharp 
teeth on that part of the canvas where his face had been, 
and in spite of himself he shuddered at the sight. 

A few minutes later one of his servants burst in to tell 
him that a vast number of mice and rats were approach- 
ing his palace from the ruins of the granary. 

“They are coming in this direction with all speed, my 
lord ! ” he said with bated breath, and a panic of terror 
seized the man who had committed so great a crime. 
Mounting his horse, he went off at great 6peed ; but though 
the brute was fleet, and he spurred him on unmercifully, 
the Bishop found that the army of rats was gaining upon 
him. Wild with terror, he hurried down to the riverside, 
and jumping into a little boat, he rowed with all his 
265. 


might towards a tall stone tower built on a rock in the 
middle of the stream. Entering this with what haste he 
could, he quickly barred the door, and crouched down in a 
dusty corner. He was safe, he thought, for a time at least. 

What was his horror presently, on peering through a 
narrow slit in the stone walls, to see that the rats and 
mice had devoured his horse, and were now swimming 
across the river. The current was swift and strong, but 
they gained the tower, and though he had barred the 
window he could hear them climbing up the rough stone 
wall in all directions. He heard them gnawing at the 
doors and windows; and the poor starved people whom he 
had caused to perish did not suffer half what he suffered 
then. 

They were in at last, and sprang at him fiercely. He 
beat them off by the score; he trampled them under his 
feet ; he tore at them savagely with his hands — all to no 
purpose; he might just as well haver tried to beat back the 
ocean. The rats surged against him like waves breaking 
on a cliff, and very soon the Bishop was overwhelmed in 
the horrid flood. Little was left to tell the tragedy when 
his servants plucked up courage to enter the building some 
days later. 

This is the story of the Mouse Tower near Bingen-on- 
the-Rhine, which is still pointed out to strangers as the 
place where Bishop Hatto met his death. 


PRINCE VIVIEN AND THE PRINCESS 
PLACIDA 

Once upon a time there lived a king and queen who loved 
one another dearly. Indeed, the queen, whose name was 
Santorina, was so pretty and so kind-hearted that it would 
have been a wonder if her husband had not been fond of 
266 


her, while King Gridelin himself was a perfect bundle of 
good qualities, for the fairy who presided at his christen- 
ing had summoned the shades of all his ancestors and 
taken something good from each of them to form his char- 
acter. Unfortunately, though, she had given him rather 
too much kindness of heart, which is a thing that gener- 
ally gets its possessor into trouble, but so far all things 
had prospered with King Gridelin. However, it was not 
to be expected such good fortune could last, and before 
very long the queen had a lovely little daughter who was 
named Placida. 

Now, the king, who thought that if she resembled her 
mother in face and mind she would need no other gift, 
never troubled to ask any of the fairies to her christening, 
and this offended them mortally, so that they resolved to 
punish him severely for thus depriving them of their 
rights. So, to the despair of King Gridelin, the queen 
first of all became very ill, and then disappeared alto- 
gether. If it had not been for the little princess there 
is no saying what would have become of him, he was so 
miserable, but there she was to be brought up, and luckily 
the good fairy Lolotte, in spite of all that had passed, was 
willing to come and take charge of her and her little cousin 
Prince Vivien, who was an orphan and had been placed 
under the care of his uncle, King Gridelin, when he was 
quite a baby. 

Although she neglected nothing that could possibly have 
been done for them, their characters, as they grew up, 
plainly proved that education only softens down natural 
defects, but cannot entirely do away with them; for Pla- 
cida, who was perfectly lovely and with a capacity and in- 
telligence which enabled her to learn and understand any- 
thing that presented itself, was at the same time as lazy 
and indifferent as it is possible for any one to be, while 
Vivien, on the contrary, was only too lively, and was forever 
267 


taking up some new thing and as promptly tiring of it, 
and flying off to something else which held his fickle fancy 
an equally short time. 

As these two children would possibly inherit the king- 
dom, it was natural that their people should take a great 
interest in them, and it fell out that all the tranquil and 
peace-loving citizens desired that Placida should one day 
be their queen, while the rash and quarrelsome hoped great 
things for Vivien. Such a division of ideas seemed to 
promise civil wars and all kinds of troubles to the state, 
and even in the palace the two parties frequently came into 
collision. As for the children themselves, though they 
were too well brought up to quarrel, still, the difference in 
all their tastes and feelings made it impossible for them to 
like one another, so there seemed no chance of their ever 
consenting to be married, which was a pity, since that was 
the only thing that would have satisfied both parties. 

Prince Vivien was fully aware of the feeling in his favour, 
but being too honourable to wish to injure his pretty cousin, 
and perhaps too impatient and volatile to care to think 
seriously about anything, he suddenly took it into his head 
that he would go off by himself in search of adventure. 
Luckily this idea occurred to him when he was on horse- 
back for he would certainly have set out on foot rather 
than lose an instant. As it was, he simply turned his 
horse’s head without another thought than that of getting 
out of the kingdom as soon as possible. 

This abrupt departure was a great blow to the state, 
specially as no one had any idea what had become of the 
prince. Even King Gridelin, w T ho had never cared for any- 
thing since the disappearance of Queen Santorina, was 
aroused by this loss, and though he could not so much as 
look at the Princess Placida without shedding floods of 
tears, he resolved to see for himself what talents and capa- 
bilities she showed. He soon found out that in addition 
268 


to her natural indolence, she was being as much indulged 
and spoiled day by day as if the fairy had been her god- 
mother, and was obliged to remonstrate very serious upon 
the subject. Lolotte took his reproaches meekly, and 
promised faithfully that she would not encourage the prin- 
cess in her idleness and indifference any more. 

From this moment poor Placida’s troubles began ! She 
was actually expected to choose her own dresses, to take 
care of her jewels, and to find her own amusements, but 
rather than take so much trouble she wore the same old 
frock from morning till night, and never appeared in 
public if she could possibly avoid it. However, this was 
not all. King Gridelin insisted that the affairs of the 
Kingdom should be explained to her, and that she should 
attend all the councils and give her opinion upon the mat- 
ter in hand whenever it was asked of her and this made 
her life such a burden to her that she implored Lolette to 
take her away from a country where too much was re- 
quired of an unhappy princess. 

The fairy refused at first with a great show of firmness, 
but who could resist the tears and entreaties of any one so 
pretty as Placida? It came to this in the end, that she 
transported the princess just as she was, cosily tucked up 
upon her favourite couch, to her own grotto, and this new 
disappearance left all the people in despair, and Gridelin 
went about looking more distracted than ever. But now let 
us return to Prince Vivien and see what his restless spirit 
has brought him to. Though Placida’s kingdom was a 
large one, his horse had carried him gallantly to the limit 
of it, but it could go no further, and the prince was obliged 
to dismount and continue his journey on foot, though this 
slow mode of progress tried his patience severely. 

After what seemed to him a very long time, he found 
himself all alone in a vast forest, so dark and gloomy that 
he secretly shuddered. However he chose the most promis- 
269 


ing-looking path he could find and marched along it cour- 
ageously at his best speed, but in spite of all his efforts 
night fell before he reached the edge of the wood. 

For some time he stumbled along, keeping to the path as 
well as he could in the darkness, and just as he was almost 
wearied out he saw before him a gleam of light. 

This' sight revived his drooping spirits and he made sure 
that he was now close to the shelter and supper he needed 
so much, but the more he walked toward the light the fur- 
ther away it seemed. Sometimes he even lost sight of it 
altogether, and you may imagine how provoked and im- 
patient he was by the time he finally arrived at the miser- 
able cottage from which the light proceeded. 

He gave a loud knock at the door and an old woman’s 
voice answered from within, but as she did not seem to be 
hurrying herself to open it he redoubled his blows and de- 
manded to be let in imperiously, quite forgetting that he 
was no longer in his own kingdom. But all this had no 
effect upon the old woman, who only noticed all the uproar 
he was making by saying gently : 

“ You must have patience.” 

He could hear that she really was coming to open the 
door to him only she was so very long about it. First she 
chased away her cat lest it should run away when the door 
was opened, then he heard her talking to herself and made 
out that her lamp wanted trimming, that she might see 
better who it was that knocked, and then that it lacked 
fresh oil, and she must refill it. So that with one thing 
and another she was an immense time trotting to and fro, 
and all the while she now and again bade the prince have 
patience. When at last he stood within the little hut he 
saw with despair it was a picture of poverty, and that not 
a crumb of anything eatable was to be seen, and when he 
explained to the old woman that he was dying of hunger 
and fatigue she only answered tranquilly that he must 
270 


have patience. However, she presently showed him a 
bundle of straw on which he could sleep. 

“But what can I have to eat?” cried Prince Vivien 
sharply. 

“ Wait a little, wait a little,” she replied. “If you will 
only have patience I am just out into the garden to gather 
some peas. We will shell them at our leisure, then I will 
light a fire and cook them, and when they are thoroughly 
done we can enjoy them peaceably. There is no hurry.” 

“ I shall have died of starvation by the time all that is 
done,” said the prince ruefully. 

“Patience, patience,” said the old woman, looking at 
him with her slow gentle smile. “ I can’t be hurried. ‘ All 
things come at last to him who waits/ You must have 
heard that often.” 

Prince Vivien was wild with aggravation, but there was 
nothing to be done. 

“Come, then,” said the old woman. “You shall hold 
the lamp to light me while I pick the peas.” 

The prince in haste snatched it up so quickly that it 
went out, and it took him a long time to light it again 
with two bits of glowing charcoal which he had to dig out 
from the pile of ashes upon the hearth. At last the peas 
were gathered and shelled and the fire lighted, and then 
they had to be carefully counted, since the old woman de- 
clared that she would cook fifty-four, and no more. In 
vain did the prince represent to her that he was famished 
— that fifty-four peas would go no way toward satisfying 
his hunger — that a few peas, more or less, surely could 
not matter. It was quite useless. In the end he had to 
count out the fifty-four, and worse than that, because he 
dropped one or two in his hurry he had to begin again from 
the very first, to be sure the number was complete. As 
soon as they were cooked the old dame took a pair of scales 
and a morsel of bread from the cupboard and was just about 
271 


to divide it, when Prince Vivien, who could wait no longer, 
seized the whole piece and ate it up, saying in his turn, 
“ Patience.” 

“ You mean that for a joke,” said the old woman as 
gently as ever, “ but that is really my name, and some day 
you will know more about me.” 

Then they each ate their twenty-seven peas, and the 
prince was surprised to find that he wanted nothing more, 
and he slept as sweetly upon his bed of straw as he had 
ever done in his palace. 

In the morning the old woman gave him milk and bread 
for his breakfast which he ate contentedly, rejoicing that 
there was nothing to be gathered or counted or cooked, and 
when he had finished he. begged her to tell him who she was. 

“ That I will, with pleasure,” she replied. “ But it will 
be a long story.” 

“ Oh ! if it’s long I can’t listen,” cried the prince. 

“ But,” said she, “ at your age you should attend to what 
old people say and learn to have patience.” 

“ But, but,” said the prince in his most impatient tone, 
“ old people should not be so long-winded ! Tell me what 
country I have got into, and nothing else.” 

“ With all my heart,” said she. “ You are in the forest 
of the blackbird. It is here that he utters his oracles.” 

“ An oracle ! ” cried the prince. “ Oh 1 I must go and 
consult him ” 

Thereupon he drew a handful of gold from his pocket 
and offered it to the old woman and when she would not 
take it, he threw it down upon the table and was off like a 
flash of lightning, without even staying to ask the way. He 
took the first path that presented itself and followed it at 
the top of his speed, often losing his way, or stumbling 
over some stone, or running up against a tree, and leaving 
behind him without regret the cottage which had been as 
little to his taste as the character of its possessor. After 
272 


some time he saw in the distance a huge black castle which 
commanded a view of the whole forest. The prince felt 
certain that this must be the abode of the oracle, and just 
as the sun was setting he reached its outermost gates. The 
whole castle was surrounded by a deep moat, and the draw- 
bridge and the gates, and even the water in the moat were 
all of the same sombre hue as the walls and towers. Upon 
the gate hung a huge bell, upon which was written in red 
letters : 

“ Mortal, if thou art curious to know thy fate, strike 
this bell and submit to what shall befall thee.” 

The prince without the slightest hesitation, snatched up 
a great stone and hammered vigorously upon the bell, 
which gave forth a deep and terrible sound, the gate flew 
open and closed again with a thundering clang the moment 
the prince had passed through it, while from every tower 
and battlement rose a wheeling, screaming crowd of bats 
which darkened the whole sky with their multitudes. 
Any one but Prince Vivien would have been terrified by 
such an uncanny sight, but he strode stoutly forward till 
he reached the second gate, which was opened to him by 
sixty black slaves covered from head to foot in long 
mantles. 

He wished to speak to them, but soon discovered that 
they spoke an utterly unknown language and did not seem 
to understand a word he said. This was a great aggrava- 
tion to the prince who was not accustomed to keep his 
ideas to himself, and he positively found himself wishing 
for his old friend Patience. He had to follow his guides 
in silence, and they led him into a magnificent hall. The 
floor was of ebony, the walls of jet, and all the hangings 
were of black velvet, but the prince looked around it in 
vain for something to eat, and then made signs that he 
was hungry. In the same manner he was respectfully 
given to understand that he must wait, and after several 
273 


hours the sixty hooded and shrouded figures reappeared 
and conducted him with great ceremony, and also very, 
very slowly, to a banqueting hall, where they all placed 
themselves at a long table. The dishes were arranged 
down the centre of it, and with his usual impetuosity the 
prince seized the one that stood in front of him to draw 
it nearer but soon found that it was firmly fixed in its 
place. Then he looked at his solemn and lugubrious 
neighbours, and saw that each one was supplied with a long 
hollow reed through which he slowly sucked up his por- 
tion and the prince was obliged to do the same, though he 
found it a frightfully tedious process. After supper they 
returned as they had come to the ebony room where he 
was compelled to look on while his companions played in- 
terminable games of chess and not until he was nearly 
dying of weariness did they, slowly and ceremoniously as 
before, conduct him to his sleeping apartment. 

The hope of consulting the oracle woke him very early 
the next morning, and his first demand was to be allowed 
to present himself before it, but without replying his at- 
tendants conducted him to a huge marble bath, very shal- 
low at one end and quite deep at the other, and gave him 
to understand that he was to go into it. The prince, noth- 
ing loath, was for springing at once into deep water, but 
he was gently but forcibly held back and only allowed to 
stand where it was about an inch deep, and he was nearly 
wild with impatience when he found that this process was 
to be repeated every day in spite of all he could say or do, 
the water rising higher and higher by inches, so that for 
sixty days he had to live in perpetual silence, ceremoniously 
conducted to and fro, supping all his meals through the 
long reed and looking on at innumerable games of chess, 
the game of all others which he detested most. 

But at last the water rose as high as his chin, and his 
bath was complete. And that day the slaves in their black 
274 


robes, and each having a large bat perched upon his head, 
marched in slow procession with the prince in their midst, 
chanting a melancholy song, to the iron gate that led into 
a kind of temple. At the sound of their chanting another 
band of slaves appeared and took possession of the unhappy 
Yivien. 

They looked to him exactly like the ones he had left, ex- 
cept that they moved more slowly still, and each one held 
a raven upon his wrist, and their harsh croakings re-echoed 
through the dismal place. Holding the prince by the arms, 
not so much to do him honour as to restrain his impatience, 
they proceeded by slow degrees up the steps of the temple, 
and when they at last reached the top he thought his long 
waiting must be at an end. But, on the contrary, after 
slowly enshrouding him in a long black robe like their own, 
they led him into the temple itself, where he was forced 
to witness numbers of lengthy rites and ceremonies. 

By this time Vivien’s active impatience had subsided into 
passive weariness and his yawns were continual and scan- 
dalous, but nobody heeded him. He stared hopelessly at 
the thick black curtains which hung down straight in 
front of him, and could hardly believe his eyes when it 
presently began to slide back and he saw before him the 
blackbird. It was of enormous size and was perched upon 
a thick bar of iron which ran across from one side of the 
temple to the other. At the sight of it all the slaves fell 
upon their knees and hid their faces, and when it had 
three times flapped its mighty wings it uttered distinctly 
in Prince Vivien’s own language the words : 

“ Prince, your only chance of happiness depends upon 
that which is most opposed to your own nature.” 

Then the curtain fell before it once more, and the prince, 
after many ceremonies, was presented with a raven, which 
perched upon his wrist, and was conducted slowly back 
to the iron gate. Here the raven left him and he was 
275 


handed once more to the care of the first band of slaves, 
while a large bat flickered down and settled upon his head 
of its own accord, and so he was taken back to the marble 
bath and had to go through the whole process again, only 
this time he began in deep water, which receded daily inch 
by inch. 

When this was over the slaves escorted him to the outer 
gate and took leave of him with every mark of esteem and 
politeness, to which it is to be feared he responded but in- 
differently since the gate was no sooner opened than he took 
to his heels and fled away with all his might, his one idea 
being to put as much space as possible between himself and 
the dreary place into which he had ventured so rashly, 
just to consult a tedious oracle who, after all, had told him 
nothing. He actually reflected for about five seconds on his 
folly, and came to the conclusion that it might sometimes 
be advisable to think before one acted. 

After wandering about for several days until he was 
weary and hungry, he at last succeeded in finding a way 
out of the forest, and soon came to a wide and rapid river, 
which he followed, hoping to find some means of crossing 
it, and it happened that as the sun rose the next morning 
he saw something of a dazzling whiteness moored out in 
the middle of the stream. Upon looking more attentively 
at it he found that it was one of the prettiest little ships 
he had ever seen, and the boat that belonged to it was 
made fast to the bank quite close to him. 

The prince was immediately seized with the most ardent 
desire to go on board the ship, and shouted loudly to at- 
tract the notice of her crew, but no one answered. Soon 
he sprang into the little boat and rowed away without find- 
ing it at all hard work, for the boat was made all of white 
paper and was as light as a rose-leaf. The ship was made 
of white paper too, as the prince presently discovered when 
he reached it. He found not a soul on board, but there 
276 


was a very cosy little bed in the cabin, and an ample sup- 
ply of good things to eat and drink, which he made up his 
mind to enjoy until something new happened. Having 
been thoroughly well brought up at the court of King 
Gridelin, of course he understood the art of navigation, 
but when once he had started the current carried the vessel 
down at such a pace that before he knew where he was 
the prince found himself out at sea and the wind springing 
up behind him just at this moment soon drove him 
out of sight of land. 

By this time he was somewhat alarmed and did his best 
to put his ship about and get back to the river, but wind 
and tide were too strong for him, and he began to think 
of the number of times, from his childhood up, that he 
had been warned not to meddle with water. But it was 
too late now to do anything but wish vainly that he had 
stayed on shore and to grow heartily weary of the boat and 
the sea most thoroughly. To put the finishing touch to 
his misfortunes, he presently found himself becalmed in 
mid-ocean, a state of affairs which would be considered 
trying by the most patient of men, so you may imagine 
how it effected Prince Vivien! He even came to wishing 
himself back at the castle of the blackbird, for there at 
least he saw living beings, whereas on board the white 
paper ship he was absolutely alone, and could not imagine 
how he was ever to get away from his wearisome prison. 

However after a long time he did see land, and his im- 
patience to be on shore was so great that he at once flung 
himself over the ship’s side that he might reach it sooner 
by swimming. But this was quite useless for spring as 
far as he might from the vessel, it was always under his 
feet again before he reached the water, and he had to resign 
himself to his fate and wait with what patience he could 
muster until the winds and waves carried the ship into a 
kind of natural harbour which ran far into the land. 

zn 


After his long imprisonment at sea the prince was de- 
lighted with the sight of the great trees which grew down 
to the very edge of the water, and leaping lightly on shore 
he speedily lost himself in the thick forest. When he had 
wandered a long way he stopped to rest beside a clear 
spring of water but scarcely had he thrown himself down 
upon the mossy bank when there was a great rustling in 
the bushes close by and out sprang a pretty little gazelle, 
panting and exhausted, and fell at his feet gasping out: 

“ Oh ! Vivien, save me ! ” 

The prince in great astonishment leaped to his feet, and 
had just time to draw his sword before he found himself 
face to face with a large green lion which had been hotly 
pursuing the poor little gazelle. Prince Vivien attacked it 
gallantly and a fierce combat ensued, which ended before 
long in the prince’s dealing his adversary a terrific blow 
which felled him to the earth. As he fell he whistled 
loudly three times with such force that the forest rang 
again, and the sound must have been heard for more than 
two leagues round, after which, having apparently iiothing 
more to do in this world, he rolled over on his side and 
died. The prince, without paying any further heed to him 
or to his whistling, returned to the pretty gazelle, say- 
ing: 

“ Well ! are you satisfied now? Since you can talk, pray 
tell me instantly what all this is about and how you hap- 
pened to know my name.” 

“ Oh, I must rest for a long time before I can talk,” she 
replied, “ and besides, I very much doubt if you will have 
leisure to listen, for the affair is by no means finished. In 
fact,” she continued in the same languid tone, “you had 
better look behind you now.” 

The prince turned sharply round and to his horror saw a 
huge giant approaching with mighty strides, crying 
fiercely : 


278 


“ Who is it that has made my lion whistle, I should like 
to know ? ” 

“ I have,” replied Prince Vivien boldly, “ but I can an- 
swer for it that he will not do it again ! ” 

At these words the giant began to howl and lament. 

“ Alas, my poor Tiny, my sweet little pet,” he cried. 
“ But at least I can avenge thy d’eath.” 

Thereupon he rushed at the prince, brandishing an im- 
mense serpent which was coiled about his wrist. Vivien, 
without losing his coolness, aimed a terrific blow at it with 
his sword, but no sooner did he touch the snake than it 
changed into a giant and the giant into a snake, with such 
rapidity that the prince felt perfectly giddy, and this hap- 
pened at least half a dozen times, until at last with a for- 
tunate stroke he cut the serpent in halves, and picking up 
one morsel flung it with all his force at the nose of the 
giant, who fell insensible on top of the lion, and in an in- 
stant a thick black cloud rolled up which hid them from 
view, and when it cleared away they had all disappeared. 

Then the prince, without even waiting to sheathe his 
sword, rushed back to the gazelle crying: 

“ Now you have had plenty of time to recover your wits, 
and you have nothing more to fear, so tell me who you 
are and what this horrible giant, with his lion and his ser- 
pent, have to do with you, and for pity’s sake be quick 
about it.” 

“ I will tell you with pleasure,” she answered, “ but where 
is the hurry? I want you to come back with me to the 
green castle, but I don’t want to walk there, it is so far, 
and walking is so fatiguing.” 

“Let us set out at once, then,” replied the prince se- 
verely, “ or else really I shall have to leave you where you 
are. Surely a young and active gazelle like you ought to 
be ashamed of not being able to walk a few steps. The 
further off this castle is the faster we ought to walk; but 
270 


as you don’t appear to enjoy that, I will promise that we 
will go gently, and we can talk by the way.” 

“ It would be better still if you would carry me,” said 
she sweetly ; “ but as I don’t like to see people giving them- 
selves trouble, you may carry me and make that snail carry 
you.” So saying, she pointed languidly with one tiny foot 
at what the prince had taken for a block of stone, but now 
he saw that it was a huge 6nail. 

“ What ! I ride a snail I ” cried the prince. “ You are 
laughing at me ; and besides, we should not get there for a 
year.” 

“ Oh ! well, then, don’t do it,” replied the gazelle. “ I 
am quite willing to stay here. The grass is green and the 
water clear. But if I were you I should take the advice 
that was given me and ride the snail.” 

So, though it did not please him at all, the prince took 
the gazelle in his arms and mounted upon the back of the 
snail, which glided along very peaceabty, entirely declin- 
ing to be hurried by frequent blows from the prince’s heels. 
In vain did the gazelle represent to him that she was en- 
joying herself very much and that this was the easiest mode 
of conveyance she had ever discovered. Prince Vivien was 
wild with impatience and thought that the green castle 
would never be reached. At last they did get there, and 
every one who was in it ran to see the prince dismount from 
his singular steed. 

But what was his surprise when, having at her request 
set the gazelle gently down upon the steps which led up to 
the castle, he saw her suddenly change into a charming 
princess and recognised in her his pretty Cousin Placida, 
who greeted him with her usual tranquil sweetness. His 
delight knew no bounds, and he followed her eagerly up 
into the castle, impatient to know what strange events had 
brought her there. But after all he had to wait for the 
princess’ story, for the inhabitants of the Green Lands, 
280 


hearing that the giant was dead, ran to offer the kingdom 
to his vanquisher, and Prince Vivien had to listen to 
various complimentary harangues, which took a great deal 
of time, though he cut them as short as politeness al- 
lowed — if not shorter. But at last he was free to join 
Placida, who at once began the stories of her adventures. 

“ After you had gone away,” said she, “they tried to 
make me learn how to govern the kingdom, which wearied 
me to death, so that I begged and prayed Lolette to take 
me away with her and this she presently did, but very 
reluctantly. However, having been transported to her 
grotto upon my favourite couch I spent several delicious 
days soothed by the soft green light, which was like a 
beech wood in the spring, and by the murmuring of bees 
and the tinkling of falling water. But, alas, Lolette was 
forced to go away to a general assembly of the fairies, and 
she came back in great dismay, telling that her indulgence 
to me had cost her dear, for she had been severely repri- 
manded and ordered to hand me over to the fairy Mirlifiche 
who was already taking charge of you and who had been 
much commended for her management of you.” 

“ Fine management, indeed,” interrupted the Prince, 
“ if it is to her I owe all the adventures I have met with ! 
But go on with your story, my cousin. I can tell you all 
about my doings afterward, and then you can judge for 
yourself.” 

“ At first I was grieved to see Lolette cry,” resumed the 
princess, “ but I soon found that grieving was very trouble- 
some, so I thought it better to be calm, and very soon 
afterward I saw the fairy Mirlifiche arrive, mounted upon 
her great unicorn. She stopped before the grotto and 
bade Lolette bring me out to her, at which she cried worse 
than ever and kissed me a dozen times, but she dared not 
refuse. I was lifted up on to the unicorn, behind Mir- 
lifiche, who said to me : 


281 


“ ‘ Hold on tight, little girl, if you don’t want to break 
your neck.’ 

“And indeed I had to hold on with all my might, for 
her horrible steed trotted so violently that it positively 
took my breath away. At last we stopped at a large farm, 
and the farmer and his wife ran out as soon as they saw 
the fairy and helped us to dismount. 

“ I knew that they were really a king and queen, whom 
the fairies were punishing for their ignorance and idle- 
ness. You may imagine that I was by this time half dead 
with fatigue, but Mirlifiche insisted upon my feeding her 
unicorn before I did anything else. To accomplish this 
I had to climb up a long ladder into the hay-loft and bring 
down^ one after another, twenty-four handfuls of hay. 
Never, never before did I have such a wearisome task ! It 
makes me shudder to think of it now and that was not all. 
In the same way I had to carry the twenty-four handfuls 
of hay to the stable, and then it was supper-time, and I 
had to wait upon all the others. After that I really 
thought I should be allowed to go peaceably to my little 
bed, but, oh, dear, no ! First of all I had to make it, for 
it was all in confusion, and then I had to make one for 
the fairy, and tuck her in, and draw the curtains round 
her, besides rendering her a dozen little services which I 
was not accustomed to. Finally when I was perfectly ex- 
hausted by all this toil, I was free to go to bed myself, 
but as I had never before undressed myself and really did 
not know how to begin, I lay down as I was. Unfortunately 
the fairy found this out, and just as I was falling into a 
sweet slumber she made me get up once more, but even 
then I managed to escape her vigilance and only took off 
my upper robe. Indeed, I may tell you in confidence that 
I always find disobedience answer very well. One is often 
scolded, it is true, but then one has been saved some trouble. 

“At the earliest dawn of day Mirlifiche woke me and 
282 


made me take many journeys to the stable to bring her 
word how her unicorn had slept and how much hay he had 
eaten, and then to find out what time it was and if it 
was a fine day. I was so slow and did my errands so badly 
that before she left she called the king and queen and said 
to them: 

“‘I am much more pleased with you this year. Con- 
tinue to make the best of your farm if you wish to get back 
to your kingdom, and also take care of this little princess 
for me and teach her to be useful, that when I come I 
may find her cured of her faults. If she is not — ? 

“ Here she broke off with a significant look, and mount- 
ing my enemy the unicorn, speedily disappeared. 

“ Then the king and queen, turning to me, asked me 
what I could do. 

“ ‘ Nothing at all, I assure you/ I replied in a tone which 
really ought to have convinced them, but they went on to 
describe various employments and tried to discover which 
of them would be most to my taste. At last I persuaded 
them that to do nothing whatever would be the only thing 
that would suit me, and that if they really wanted to be 
kind to me they would let me go to bed and to sleep, and 
not to tease me about doing anything. To my great joy 
they not only permitted this* but actually, when they had 
their own meals, the queen brought my portion up to me. 
But early the next morning she appeared at my bedside, 
saying with an apologetic air: 

“‘My pretty child, I am afraid you must really make 
up your mind to get up to-day. I know quite well how 
delightful it is to be thoroughly idle, for when my husband 
and I were king and queen we did nothing at all from 
morning to night, and I sincerely hope it will not be long 
before those happy days will come again for us. But at pres- 
ent we have not reached them, nor have you, and you know 
from what the fairy said that perhaps worse things may 
283 


happen to us if she is not obeyed. Make haste, I beg of 
you, and come down to breakfast, for I have put by some 
delicious cream for you/ 

“ It was really very tiresome, but as there was no help 
for it I went down. 

“But the instant breakfast was over they began their 
cuckoo-cry of ‘ What will you do ? 5 In vain did I answer : 

“ ‘ Nothing at all, if it please you, madam/ 

“The queen at last gave me a spindle and about four 
pounds of hemp upon a distaff and sent me out to keep the 
sheep, assuring me that there could not be a pleasanter oc- 
cupation and that I could take my ease as much as I 
pleased. I was forced to set out, very unwillingly, as 
you may imagine, hut I had not walked far before I came 
to a shady bank in what seemed to me a charming place. 
I stretched myself cosily upon the grass and with the 
bundle of hemp for a pillow slept as tranquilly as if there 
were no such things as sheep in the world, while they for 
their part wandered hither and thither at their own sweet 
will, as if there were no such thing as a shepherdess, invad- 
ing every field and browsing upon every kind of forbidden 
dainty, until the peasants, alarmed by the havoc they were 
making, raised a clamour, which at last reached the ears 
of the king and queen, who ran out, and seeing the cause 
of the commotion hastily collected their flock. And in- 
deed the sooner the better, since they had to pay for all 
the damage they had done. As for me I lay still and 
w r atched them run, for I was very comfortable, and there 
I might be still if they had not come up, all panting and 
breathless, and compelled me to get up and follow them; 
they also reproached me bitterly, but I need not tell you 
they did not again intrust me with the flock. 

“ But whatever they found for me to do it was always the 
same thing — I spoiled and mismanaged it all, and was 
so successful in provoking even the most patient people 
284 


that one day I ran away from the farm for I was really 
afraid the queen would be obliged to heat me. When I 
came to the little river in which the king used to fish I 
found the boat tied to a tree, and stepping in I unfastened 
it and floated gently down with the current. The gliding 
of the boat was so soothing that I did not trouble myself 
in the least, when the queen caught sight of me and ran 
along the hank, crying : < My boat ! my boat ! Hus- 

band, come and catch the little princess who is running 
away with my boat ! ’ 

“ The current soon carried me out of hearing of her 
cries, and I dreamed to the song of the ripples and the 
whispering of the trees until the boat suddenly stopped, 
and I found it was stuck fast beside a fresh green meadow 
and that the sun was rising. In the distance I saw some 
little houses which seemed to be built in a most singular 
fashion hut as I was by this time very hungry I set out 
toward them, but before I had walked many steps I saw 
that the air was full of shining objects which seemed to 
be fixed, and yet I could not see what they hung from. 

“ I went nearer and saw a silken cord hanging down 
to the ground, and pulled it just because it was so close 
to my hand. Instantly the whole meadow resounded to 
the melodious chiming of a peal of silver bells, and they 
sounded so pretty that I sat down to listen and to watch 
them as they swung shining in the sunbeams. Before 
they ceased to sound came a great flight of birds, and each 
one perching upon a bell added its charming song to the 
concert. As they ended, I looked up and saw a tall and 
stately dame advancing toward me, surrounded and fol- 
lowed by a vast flock of every kind of bird. 

“ 6 Who are you, little girl/ said she, ‘ who dares to come 
where I allow no mortal to live, less my birds should be 
disturbed? Still, if you are clever at anything/ she 
added, ‘ I might be able to put up with your presence/ 

285 


“‘ Madam/ I answered, rising, ‘yon may be sure that 
I will do nothing to alarm your birds. I only beg you, 
for pity’s sake, to give me something to eat.’ 

“ ‘ I will do that,’ she replied, ‘ before I send you where 
you deserve to go.’ 

“ And thereupon she despatched six jays, who were her 
pages, to fetch me all sorts of biscuits, while some of the 
other birds brought ripe fruits. In fact I had a delicious 
breakfast, though I do not like to be waited upon so 
quickly. It is so disagreeable to be hurried. I began to 
think I should like very well to stay in this pleasant coun- 
try, and I said so to the stately lady, but she answered with 
the greatest disdain : 

“‘Do you think I would keep you here? You! Why, 
what do you suppose would be the good of you in this coun- 
try, where everybody is wide awake and busy? No, no, 
I have shown you all the hospitality you will get from me.’ 

“With these words she turned and gave a vigorous pull 
to the silken rope which I mentioned before, but instead 
of a melodious chime there arose a hideous clanging which 
quite terrified me, and in an instant a huge blackbird 
appeared, which alighted at the fairy’s feet, saying in a 
frightful voice: 

“ ‘ What do you want of me, my sister ? ’ 

“ ‘ I wish you to take this little princess to my cousin, 
the giant of the green castle, at once,’ she replied, ‘ and beg 
him from me to make her work day and night upon his 
beautiful tapestry.’ 

“ At these words the great bird snatched me up, regard- 
less of my cries, and flew off at a terrific pace — ” 

“ Oh ! you are joking, cousin,” interrupted Prince Vi- 
vien ; “ you mean as slowly as possible. I know that hor- 
rible blackbird and the lengthiness of all his proceedings 
and surroundings.” 

“Have it your own way,” replied Placida tranquilly. 

286 


“ I cannot bear arguing. Perhaps this was not even the 
same bird. At this rate, he carried me off at a prodigious 
speed and set me gently down in this very castle of which 
you are now the master. We entered by one of the win- 
dows, and when the bird had handed me over to the giant 
from whom you have been good enough to deliver me and 
given the fairy’s message it departed. 

“ Then the giant turned to me, saying : 

“ ‘ So you are an idler ! Ah ! well, we must teach you to 
work. You won’t be the first we have cured of laziness. 
See how busy all my guests are.’ 

“ I looked up as he spoke, and saw that an immense gal- 
lery ran all around the hall, in which were tapestry frames, 
spindles, skeins of wool, patterns, and all necessary things. 
Before each frame about a dozen people were sitting hard at 
work, at which terrible sight I fainted away, and as soon 
as I recovered they began to ask me what I could do. 

“ It was in vain that I replied as before, and with the 
strongest desire to be taken at my word : ‘ Nothing at all.’ 

“ The giant only said : 

“ ‘ Then you must learn to do something. In this world 
there is enough work for everybody.’ 

“ It appeared that they were working into the tapestry all 
the stories the fairies liked best, and they began to try and 
teach me to help them, but from the first class, where they 
tried me to begin with, I sank lower and lower, and not 
even the most simple stitches could I learn. 

“In vain they punished me by all the usual methods. 
In vain the giant showed me his large menagerie, which 
was entirely composed of children who would not work ! 
Nothing did me any good, and I was reduced to drawing 
water for the dyeing of the wools, and I was so slow that 
this morning the giant flew into a rage and changed me 
into a gazelle. He was just putting me into the menagerie, 
when I happened to catch sight of a dog and was seized 
287 


with such terror that I fled away at my utmost speed and 
escaped through the outer court of the castle. The giant, 
fearing that I should be lost altogether, sent his green lion 
after me, with orders to bring me back, cost what it might, 
and I should certainly let myself be caught, or eaten up, 
or anything, rather than run any further, if I had not 
luckily met you by the fountain. And oh ! ” continued the 
princess, “ how delightful it is once more to be able to sit 
still in peace. I was so tired of trying to learn things.” 

Prince Vivien said that for his part he had been kept a 
great deal too still and had not found it at all amusing, 
and then he recounted all his adventures with breathless 
rapidity. How he had taken shelter with Dame Patience, 
and consulted the oracle, and voyaged in the paper ship. 
Then they went hand in hand to release all the prisoners 
in the castle and all the princes and princesses who were 
in cages in the menagerie, for the instant the green giant 
was dead they had resumed their natural forms. As you 
may imagine, they were all very grateful and Princess Pla- 
cida entreated them never, never to do another stitch of 
w r ork so long as they lived, and they promptly made a great 
bonfire in the courtyard and solemnly burned all the em- 
broidery frames and spinning-wheels. Then the princess 
gave them splendid presents, or rather sat by while Prince 
Vivien gave them, and there were great rejoicings in the 
green castle, and every one did his best to please the prince 
and princess. 

But with all their good intentions they often made mis- 
takes for Vivien and Placida were never of one mind about 
their plans, so it was very confusing, and they frequently 
found themselves obeying the prince’s orders, very, very 
slowly, and rushing off with lightning speed to do some- 
thing that the princess did not wish to have done at all, 
until by and by the two cousins took to consulting with 
and consoling one another in all these little vexations, and 
288 


at last came to be so fond of each other that for Placida’s 
sake Vivien became quite patient, and for Vivien’s sake 
Placida made the most unheard of exertions. 

But now the fairies who had been watching all these 
proceedings with interest, thought it was time to inter- 
fere and ascertain by further trials if this improvement 
was likely to continue, and if they really loved one another 
so they caused Placida to seem to have a violent fever and 
Vivien to languish and grow dull, and made each of them 
very uneasy about the other, and then, finding a moment 
when they were apart, the fairy Mirlifiche suddenly ap- 
peared to Placida and said: 

"I have just seen Prince Vivien, and he 6eemed to be 
very ill.” 

" Alas ! yes madam,” she answered, " and if you will but 
cure him you may take me back to the farm or bring 
the green giant to life again, and you shall see how obedient 
I will be.” 

"If you really wish him to recover,” said the fairy, 
" you have only to catch the trotting mouse and the chaf- 
finch-on-the-wing and bring them to me. Only remember 
that time presses ! ” 

She had hardly finished speaking before the princess 
was rushing headlong out of the castle gate, and the fairy, 
after watching her till she was lost to sight, gave a little 
chuckle and went in search of the prince, who begged her 
earnestly to send him back to the black castle or to the 
paper boat if she would but save Placida’s life. The fairy 
shook her head and looked very grave. She quite agreed 
with him, the princess was in a bad way. "But,” said 
she, "if you can find the rosy mole and give him to her 
she will recover.” So now it was the prince’s turn to set 
off in a vast hurry, only as soon as he left the castle he 
happened in exactly the opposite direction to the one 
Placida had taken. 


289 


Now you can imagine these two devoted lovers hunting 
night and day. The princess in the woods, always run- 
ning, always listening, pursuing hotly after two creatures 
which seemed to her very hard to catch, which she yet 
never ceased from pursuing. The prince, on the other 
hand, wandering continually across the meadows, his eyes 
fixed upon the ground, attentive to every movement among 
the moles. He was forced to walk slowly — slowly upon 
tip-toe, hardly venturing to breathe. Often he stood for 
hours motionless as a statue and if the desire to succeed 
could have helped him he would soon have possessed the 
rosy mole. But, alas! all that caught were black and 
ordinary, though strange to say he never grew impatient, 
but always seemed ready to begin the tedious hunt again. 

But this changing of character is one of the most ordi- 
nary miracles which love works. Neither the prince nor 
the princess gave a thought to anything but their quest. 
It never even occurred to them to wonder what country 
they had reached. So you may guess how astonished they 
were one day when, having and weary chase, they cried 
aloud at the same instant, “ At last I have saved my be- 
loved/’ and then, recognising each other’s voice, looked 
up and rushed to meet one another with the wildest 

joy- 

Surprise kept them silent while for one delicious mo- 
ment they gazed into each other’s eyes, and just then who 
should come up but King Gridelin, for it was into his 
kingdom they had accidentally strayed. He recognised 
them in his turn and greeted them joyfully but when they 
turned afterward to look for the rosy mole, the chaffinch, 
and the trotting mouse, they had vanished, and in their 
places stood a lovely lady whom they did not know, the 
blackbird, and the green giant. King Gridelin had no 
sooner set eyes upon the lady than with a cry of joy he 
clasped her in his arms for it was no other than his long- 
290 


lost wife Santorina, about whose imprisonment in fairy- 
land you may perhaps read some day. 

Then the blackbird and the green giant resumed their 
natural form, for they were enchanters, and up flew Lolotte 
and Mirlifiche in their chariots, and then there was a great 
kissing and congratulating, for everybody had regained 
some one he loved, including the enchanters, who loved their 
natural forms dearly. After this they repaired to the 
palace, and the wedding of Prince Vivien and Princess Pla- 
cida was held at once with all the splendour imaginable. 
King Gridelin and Queen Santorina, after all their ex- 
periences, had no further desire to reign, so they retired 
happily to a peaceful place, leaving their kingdom to the 
prince and princess, who were beloved by all their subjects 
and found their greatest happiness all their lives in making 
other people happy. 


FAIRY GIFTS 

It generally happens that people’s surroundings reflect 
more or less accurately their minds and dispositions, so 
perhaps that is why the Flower Fairy lived in a lovely 
palace, with the most delightful garden you can imagine, 
full of flowers and trees, and fountains, and fish-ponds, 
and everything nice. For the fairy herself was so kind 
and charming that everybody loved her, and all the young 
princes and princesses who formed her court were as happy 
as the day was long, simply because they were near her. 
They came to her when they were quite tiny, and never 
left her until they were grown up and to go away into the 
great world; and when that time came she gave to each 
whatever gift he asked of her. But it is chiefly of tlTe 
Princess Sylvia that you are going to hear now. The 
291 


fairy loved her with all her heart, for she was at once 
original and gentle, and she had nearly reached the age 
at which the gifts were generally bestowed. However, the 
fairy had a great wish to know how the other princesses 
who had grown up and left her were prospering, and be- 
fore the time came for Sylvia to go herself she resolved 
to send her to some of them. So one day her chariot, 
drawn by butterflies, was made ready, and the fairy said: 
“ Sylvia, I am going to send you to the court of Iris ; she 
will receive you with pleasure for my sake as well as your 
own. In two months you may come back to me again, and 
I will expect you to tell me what you think of her.” 

Sylvia was very unwilling to go away, but as the fairy 
wished it she said nothing — only when the two months 
were over she stepped joyfully into the butterfly chariot, 
and could not get back quickly enough to the Flower 
Fairy, who, for her part, was equally delighted to see her 
again. 

“Now, child,” said she, “tell me what impression you 
have received.” 

“ You sent me, madam,” answered Sylvia, “ to the court 
of Iris, on whom you had bestowed the gift of beauty. 
She never tells any one, however, that it was your gift, 
though she often speaks of your kindness in general. It 
seemed to me that her loveliness, which fairly dazzled me 
at first, had absolutely deprived her of the use of any of 
her other gifts or graces. In allowing herself to be seen, 
she appeared to think that she was doing all that could 
possibly be required of her. But, unfortunately, while I 
was still with her she became seriously ill, and though she 
presently recovered, her beauty is entirely gone, so that 
she hates the very sight of herself, and is in despair. She 
entreated me to tell you what had happened, and to beg 
you, in pity, to give her beauty back to her. And, indeed, 
she does need it terribly, for all the things in her that 
292 


were tolerable, and even agreeable, when she was so pretty, 
seem quite different now she is ugly, and it is so long since 
she thought of using her mind or her natural cleverness, 
that I really don’t think she has any left now. She is 
quite aware of all this herself, so you may imagine how 
unhappy she is, and how earnestly she begs for your aid.” 

“You have told me what I wanted to know, 3 ’ cried the 
fairy, “ but alas ! I cannot help her ; my gifts can be given 
but once.” 

Some time passed in all the usual delights of the Flower- 
Fairy’s palace, and then she sent for Sylvia again, and 
told her she was to stay for a little while with the Prin- 
cess Daphne, and accordingly the butterflies whisked her 
off, and set her down in quite a strange kingdom. But 
she had only been there a very little time before a wander- 
ing butterfly brought a message from her to the fairy, 
begging that she might be sent for as soon as possible, and 
before very long she was allowed to return. 

“ Ah, madam ! ” cried she, “ what a place you sent me 
to this time ! ” 

“Why, what was the matter?” asked the Fairy. 
“ Daphne was one of the princesses who asked for the gift 
of eloquence, if I remember rightly.” 

“ And very ill the gift of eloquence becomes a woman,” 
replied Sylvia, with an air of conviction. “It is true 
that she speaks well, and her expressions are well chosen; 
but then she never leaves off talking, and though at first 
one may be amused, one ends by being wearied to death. 
Above all things she loves any assembly for settling the 
affairs of her kingdom, for on those occasions she can talk 
and talk without fear of interruption; but, even then, the 
moment it is over she is ready to begin again about any- 
thing or nothing, as the case may be. Oh ! how glad I was 
to come away I cannot tell you.” 

The fairy smiled at Sylvia’s unfeigned disgust at her 
£93 


late experience; but after allowing her a little time to re- 
cover she sent her to the Court of the Princess Cynthia, 
where she left her for three months. At the end of that 
time Sylvia came back to her with all the joy and content- 
ment that one feels at being once more beside a dear 
friend. The fairy, as usual, was anxious to hear what she 
thought of Cynthia, who had always been amiable, and to 
whom she had given the gift of pleasing. 

“ I thought at first,” said Sylvia, “ that she must be the 
happiest princess in the world; she had a thousand lovers 
who vied with one another in their efforts to please and 
gratify her. Indeed, I had nearly decided that I would 
ask a similar gift.” 

“Have you altered your mind, then?” interrupted the 
fairy. 

“Yes, indeed, madam,” replied Sylvia; “and I will tell 
you why. The longer I stayed the more I saw that Cyn- 
thia was not really happy. In her desire to please every 
one she ceased to be sincere, and degenerated into a mere 
coquette; and even her lovers felt that the charms and 
fascinations which were exercised upon all who approached 
her without distinction were valueless, so that in the end 
they ceased to care for them, and went away disdainfully.” 

“I am pleased with you, child,” said the fairy; “enjoy 
yourself here for awhile and presently you shall go to 
Phyllida.” 

Sylvia was glad to have leisure to think, for she could 
not make up her mind at all what she should ask for her- 
self, and the time was drawing very near. However, be- 
fore very long the fairy sent her to Phyllida, and waited 
for her report with unabated interest. 

“ I reached her court safely,” said Sylvia, “ and she re- 
ceived me with much kindness, and immediately began to 
exercise upon me that brilliant wit which you had be- 
stowed upon her. I confess that I was fascinated by it, 
294 


and for a week thought that nothing could be more de- 
sirable; the time passed like magic, so great was the charm 
of her society. But I ended by ceasing to covet that gift 
more than any of the others I have seen, for, like the gift 
of pleasing, it cannot really give satisfaction. By degrees 
I wearied of what had so delighted me at first, especially 
as I perceived more and more plainly that it is impossible 
to be constantly smart and amusing without being fre- 
quently ill-natured, and too apt to turn all things, even 
the most serious, into mere occasions for a brilliant jest.” 

The fairy in her heart agreed with Sylvia’s conclusions, 
and felt pleased with herself for having brought her up 
so well. 

But now the time was come for Sylvia to receive her 
gift, and all her companions were assembled; - the fairy 
stood in the midst and in the usual manner asked what 
she would take with her into the great world. 

Sylvia paused for a moment, and then answered : “ A 
quiet spirit.” And the fairy granted her request. 

This lovely gift makes life a constant happiness to its 
possessor, and to all who are brought into contact with 
her. She has all the beauty of gentleness and contentment 
in her sweet face; and if at times it seems less lovely 
through some chance grief or disquietude, the hardest 
thing that one ever hears said is: 

“ Sylvia’s dear face is pale to-day. It grieves one to see 
her so.” 

And when, on the contrary, she is gay and joyful, the 
sunshine of her presence rejoices all who have the happi- 
ness of being near her. 


295 


THE BRONZE RING 


Once upon a time in a certain country there lived a king 
whose palace was surrounded by a spacious garden. But 
though the gardeners were many and the soil was good, 
this garden yielded neither flowers nor fruit, not even 
grass or shady trees. 

The king was in despair about it, when a wise old man 
said to him: 

“Your gardeners do not understand their business: 
but what can you expect of men whose fathers were cob- 
blers and carpenters? How should they have learned to 
cultivate your garden ? ” 

“You are quite right,” cried the king. 

“Therefore,” continued the old man, “you should send 
for a gardener whose father and grandfather have been 
gardeners before him, and very soon your garden will be 
full of green grass and gay flowers and you will enjoy its 
delicious fruit.” 

So the king sent messengers to every town, village, and 
hamlet in his dominions to look for a gardener whose fore- 
fathers had been gardeners also, and after forty days one 
was found. 

“ Come with us and be gardener to the king,” they said 
to him. 

“How can I go to the king,” said the gardener, “a 
poor wretch like me ? ” 

“That is of no consequence,” they answered. “Here 
are new clothes for you and your family.” 

“But I owe money to several people.” 

“We will pay your debts,” they said. 

So the gardener allowed himself to be persuaded, and 
went away with the messengers, taking his wife and his 
296 


son with him; and the king, delighted to have found a 
real gardener, intrusted him with the care of his garden. 
The man found no difficulty in making the royal garden 
produce flowers and fruit, and at the end of a year the 
park was not like the same place and the king showered 
gifts upon his new servant. 

The gardener, as you have heard already, had a son who 
was a very handsome young man, with most agreeable 
manners, and every day he carried the best fruit of the 
garden to the king and all the prettiest flowers to his 
daughter. Now, this princess was wonderfully pretty and 
was just sixteen years old, and the king was beginning to 
think it was time that she should be married. 

“ My dear child, ” said he, “ you are of an age to take a 
husband, therefore I am thinking of marrying you to the 
son of my prime minister.” 

“ Father,” replied the princess, “ I will never marry the 
son of the minister.” 

“Why not?” asked the king. 

“ Because I love the gardener’s son,” answered the 
princess. 

On hearing this the king was at first very angry and 
then he wept and sighed, and declared that such a hus- 
band was not worthy of his daughter. But the young 
princess was not to be turned from her resolution to 
marry the gardener’s son. 

Then the king consulted his ministers. “This is what 
you must do,” they said. “ To get rid of the gardener 
you must send both suitors to a very distant country, and 
the one who returns first shall marry your daughter.” 

The king followed this advice and the minister’s son 
was presented with a splendid horse and a purseful of 
gold-pieces, while the gardener’s son had only an old lame 
horse and a purseful of copper money, and every one 
thought he would never come back from his journey. 

297 


The day before they started the princess met her lover 
and said to him : 

“ Be brave and remember always that I love you. Take 
this purseful of jewels and make the best use you can of 
them for love of me, and come back quickly and demand 
my hand.” 

The two suitors left the town together, but the minister’s 
son went off at a gallop on his good horse and very soon 
was lost to sight behind the most distant hills. He 
travelled on for some days, and presently reached a foun- 
tain beside which an old woman all in rags sat upon a 
stone. 

“ Good-day to you, young traveller,” said she. 

But the minister’s son made no reply. 

“ Have pity upon me, traveller,” she said again. “ I 
am dying of hunger, as you see, and three days have I been 
here and no one has given me anything.” 

“Let me alone, old witch,” cried the young man; “I 
can do nothing for you,” and so saying he went on his 
way. 

That same evening the gardener’s son rode up to the 
fountain upon his lame grey horse. 

“Good-day to you young traveller,” said the beggar- 
woman. 

“ Good-day, good woman,” answered he. 

“ Young traveller, have pity upon me.” 

“Take my purse, good woman,” said he, “and mount 
behind me, for your legs can’t be very strong.” 

The old woman didn’t wait to be asked twice, but 
mounted behind him, and in this style they reached the 
chief city of a powerful kingdom. The minister’s son 
was lodged in a grand inn; the gardener’s son and the old 
woman dismounted at the inn for beggars. 

The next day the gardener’s son heard a great noise in 
298 


the street and the king’s heralds passed, blowing all kinds 
of instruments and crying: 

“The king, our master, is old and infirm. He will 
give a great reward to whoever will cure him and give 
him back the strength of his youth.” 

Then the old beggar-woman said to her benefactor: 

“ This is what you must do to obtain the reward which 
the king promises. Go out of the town by the south gate 
and there you will find three little dogs of different colours ; 
the first will be white, the second black, the third red. 
You must kill them and then burn them separately and 
gather up the ashes. Put the ashes of each dog into a 
bag of its own colour, then go before the door of the palace 
and cry out : ‘ A celebrated physician has come from J anina 
in Albania. He alone can cure the king and give him 
back the strength of his youth.’ The king’s physicians 
will say, ‘ This is an impostor and not a learned man,’ and 
they will make all sorts of difficulties, but you will over- 
come them all at last and will present yourself before the 
sick king. You must then demand as much wood as three 
mules can carry and a great caldron, and must shut your- 
self up in a room with the sultan, and when the caldron 
boils you must throw him into it, and there leave him 
until his flesh is completely separated from his bones. 
Then arrange the bones in their proper places and throw 
over them the ashes out of the three bags. The king will 
come back to life and will be just as he was when he was 
twenty years old. For your reward you must demand the 
bronze ring which has the power to grant you everything 
you desire. Go, my son, and do not forget any of my 
instructions.” 

The young man followed the old beggar-woman’s direc- 
tions. On going out of the town he found the white, red, 
and black dogs, and killed and burned them, gathering 
299 


the ashes into three bags. Then he ran to the palace and 
cried : 

“A celebrated physician has just come from Janina in 
Albania. He alone can cure the king and give him back the 
strength of his youth .’ 5 

The king’s physicians at first laughed at the unknown 
wayfarer, but the sultan ordered that the stranger should 
be admitted. They brought the caldron and the loads of 
wood and very soon the king was boiling away. Toward 
mid-day the gardener’s son arranged the bones in their 
places, and he had hardly scattered the ashes over them 
before the old king revived, to find himself once more 
young and hearty. 

“How can I reward you, my benefactor?” he cried. 
“Will you take half my treasures?” 

“ Ho,” said the gardener’s son. 

“My daughter’s hand?” 

“ Ho.” 

“ Take half my kingdom ? ” 

“ Ho. Give me only the bronze ring which can instantly 
grant me anything I wish for.” 

“ Alas ! ” said the king, “ I set great store by that mar- 
vellous ring; nevertheless, you shall have it.” And he 
gave it to him. 

The gardener’s son went back to say good-bye to the old 
beggar-woman ; then he said to the bronze ring: 

“ Prepare a splendid ship in which I may continue my 
journey. Let the hull be of fine gold, the masts of silver, 
the sails of brocade; let the crew consist of twelve young 
men of noble appearance dressed like kings. St. Hicholas 
will be at the helm. As to the cargo, let it be diamonds, 
rubies, emeralds, and carbuncles.” 

And immediately a ship appeared upon the sea which 
resembled in every particular the description given by the 
300 


gardener’s son, and stepping on board he continued his 
journey. Presently he arrived at a great town and estab- 
lished himself in a wonderful palace. After several days 
he met his rival, the minister’s son, who had spent all his 
money and reduced to the disagreeable employment of a 
carrier of dust and rubbish. The gardener’s son said to 
him: 

“What is your name, what is your family, and from 
what country do you come?” 

“ I am the son of the prime minister of a great nation, 
and yet 6ee what a degrading occupation I am reduced 
to.” 

“Listen to me: though I don’t know anything more 
about you, I am willing to help you. I will give you a ship 
to take you back to your own country upon one condi- 
tion.” 

“ Whatever it may be, I accept it willingly.” 

“ Follow me to my palace.” 

The minister’s son followed the rich stranger, whom he 
had not recognised. When they reached the palace the 
gardener’s son made a sign to his slaves, who completely 
undressed the new-comer. 

“ Make this ring red-hot,” commanded the master, 
“ and mark the man with it upon his back.” 

The slaves obeyed him. 

“Now, young man,” said the rich stranger, “I am 
going to give you a vessel which will take you back to 
your own country.” 

And going out he took the bronze ring and said : 

“Bronze ring, obey thy master. Prepare me a ship of 
which the half-rotten timbers shall be painted black, let 
the sails be in rags, and the sailors infirm and sickly. 
One shall have lost a leg, another an arm, the third shall 
be a hunchback, another lame or club-footed or blind, 
301 


and most of them shall be ugly and covered with scars. 
Go, and let my orders be executed.” 

The minister’s son embarked in this old vessel and, 
thanks to favourable winds, at length reached his own 
country. In spite of the pitiable condition in which he 
returned they received him joyfully. 

“I am the first to come back,” said he to the king; 
“now fulfil your promise and give me the princess in 
marriage.” 

So they at once began to prepare for the wedding fes- 
tivities. As to the poor princess, she was sorrowful and 
angry enough about it. 

The next morning at daybreak a wonderful ship with 
every sail set came to anchor before the town. The king 
happened at that moment to be at the palace window. 

“What strange ship is this,” he cried, “that has a 
golden hull, silver masts, and silken sails, and who are the 
young men like princes who man it? And do I not see 
St. Nicholas at the helm? Go at once and invite the cap- 
tain of the ship to come to the palace.” 

His servants obeyed him, and very soon in came an en- 
chantly handsome young prince, dressed in rich silk orna- 
mented with pearls and diamonds. 

“Young man,” said the king, “you are welcome, who- 
ever you may be. Do me the favour to be my guest as 
long as you remain in my capital.” 

“ Many thanks, sire,” replied the captain. “ I accept 
your offer.” 

“My daughter is about to be married,” said the king. 
“ Will you give her away ? ” 

“I shall be charmed, sire.” 

Soon after came the princess and her betrothed. 

“ Why, how is this ? ” cried the young captain. “ Would 
you marry this charming princess to such a man as 
that?” 


302 


“ But he is my prime minister’s son.” 

“ What does that matter ? I cannot give your daugh- 
ter away. The man she is betrothed to is one of my serv- 
ants.” 

“Your servant?” 

“With a doubt. I met him in a distant town reduced 
to carrying away dust and rubbish from the houses. I 
had pity on him and engaged him as one of my serv- 
ants.” 

“It is impossible!” cried the king. 

“Do you wish me to prove what I say? This young 
man returned in a vessel which I fitted out for him, an 
unseaworthy ship with a battered hull, and the sailors 
were infirm and crippled.” 

“ It is quite true,” said the king. 

“ It is false,” cried the minister’s son. “ I do not know 
this man .” 

“ Sire,” said the young captain, “ order your daughter’s 
betrothed to be stripped and see if the mark of my ring 
is not branded upon his back.” 

The king was about to give this order, when the min- 
ister’s son, to save himself from such an indignity, ad- 
mitted that the story was true. 

“ And now, sire,” said the young captain, “ do not you 
recognise me?” 

“ I recognise you,” said the princess ; “ you are the 
gardener’s son whom I have always loved, and it is you I 
wish to marry.” 

“Young man, you shall be my son-in-law,” cried the 
king. “ The marriage festivities are already begun, so 
you shall marry my daughter this very day.” 

And so that very day the gardener’s son married the 
beautiful princess. 

'Several months passed. The young couple were as 
happy as the day was long, and the king was more and 
303 


more pleased with himself for having secured such a son- 
in-law. 

But presently the captain of the golden ship found it 
necessary to take a long voyage, and after embracing his 
wife tenderly he embarked. 

Now, in the outskirts of the capital there lived a Jew 
who had spent his life in studying black arts — alchemy, 
astrology, magic, and enchantment. This man found out 
that the gardener’s son had only succeeded in marrying the 
princess by the help of the genii who obeyed the bronze 
ring. 

“ I will have that ring,” said he to himself. So he went 
down to the sea-shore and caught some little red fishes. 
Beally they were quite wonderfully pretty. Then he came 
back, and passing before the princess’ window he began to 
cry out: 

“ Who wants some pretty little red fishes ? ” 

The princess heard him and sent out one of her slaves, 
who said to the old Jew: 

“ What will you take for your fish ? ” 

“ A bronze ring.” 

“ A bronze ring, old simpleton ! And where shall I find 
one ? ” 

“ Under the cushion in the princess’ room.” 

The slave went back to her mistress. 

“ The old madman will take neither gold nor silver,” 
said she. 

“What does he want, then?” 

“ A bronze ring that is hidden under a cushion.” 

“ Find the ring and give it to him,” said the princess. 

And at last the slave found the bronze ring which the 
captain of the golden ship had accidentally left behind, 
and carried it to the Jew, who made off with it instantly. 

Hardly had he reached his own house when, taking the 
ring, he said: “Bronze ring, obey thy master. I desire 
304 


that the golden ship shall turn to black wood and the 
crew to hideous negroes; that St. Nicholas shall leave the 
helm, and that the only cargo shall be black cats.” 

And the genii of the bronze ring obeyed him. 

Finding himself upon the sea in this miserable condi- 
tion, the young captain understood that some one must have 
stolen the bronze ring from him, and he lamented his 
fortune loudly; but that did him no good. 

“ Alas ! ” he said to himself, “ whoever has taken my 
ring has probably taken my dear wife also. What good 
will it do me to go back to my own country ? ” And he 
sailed about from island to island and from shore to shore, 
believing that wherever he went everybody was laughing at 
him, and very soon his poverty was so great that he and 
his crew and the poor black cats had nothing to eat but 
herbs and roots. After wandering about a long time he 
reached an island inhabited by mice. The captain landed 
upon the shore and began to explore the country. There 
were mice everywhere and nothing but mice. Some of 
the black cats had followed him, and not having been fed 
for many days, they were fearfully hungry and made terri- 
ble havoc among the mice. 

Then the queen of the mice held a council. 

“ These cats will eat every one of us,” she said, “ if the 
captain of the ship does not shut the ferocious animals up. 
Let us send a deputation to him of the bravest among us.” 

Several mice offered themselves for this mission and set 
out to find the young captain. 

“ Captain,” said they, “ go away quickly from our island 
or we will perish, every mouse of us.” 

“Willingly,” replied the young captain, “upon one con- 
dition. That is that you shall first bring me back a 
bronze ring which some clever magician has stolen from 
me. If you do not do this I will land all my cats upon 
your island and you shall be exterminated.” 

305 


The mice withdrew in great dismay. “What is to be 
done?” said the queen. “How can we find this bronze 
ring?” She held a new council calling in mice from 
every quarter of the globe, but nobody knew where the 
bronze ring was. Suddenly three mice arrived from a very 
distant country. One was blind, the second lame, and the 
third had her ears cropped. 

“ Ho ! ho ! ho ! ” said the new comers. “We come from 
a far distant country.” 

“ Do you know where the bronze ring is which the genii 
obey ? ” 

“ Ho ! ho ! ho ! We know ; a wicked J ew has taken posses- 
sion of it and now he keeps it in his pocket by day and 
in his mouth by night.” 

“ Go and take it from him and come back as soon as 
possible.” 

So the three mice made themselves a boat and set sail 
for the Jew’s country. When they reached the capital 
they landed and ran to the palace, leaving only the blind 
mouse on the shore to take care of the boat. Then they 
waited till it was night. The Jew lay down in bed and 
put the bronze ring into his mouth and very soon he was 
asleep. 

“Now what shall we do?” said the two little animals to 
each other. 

The mouse with the cropped ears found a lamp full of 
oil and a bottle full of pepper. So she dipped her tail 
first in the oil and then in the pepper and held it to the 
Jew’s nose. 

“ Atisha ! atisha ! ” sneezed the Jew, but he did not wake, 
and the shock made the bronze ring jump out of his 
mouth. Quick as thought the lame mouse snatched up 
the precious talisman and carried it off to the boat. 

Imagine the despair of the magician when he awoke and 
the bronze ring was nowhere to be found ! 

306 


But by that time our three mice had set sail with their 
prize. A favouring breeze was carrying them toward the 
island where the queen of the mice was awaiting them. 
Naturally they began to talk about the bronze ring. 

"Which of us deserves the most credit? ” they cried all 
at once. 

" I do/* said the blind mouse, " for without my watch- 
fulness our boat would have drifted away to the open sea.” 

"No, indeed,” cried the mouse with the cropped ears; 
"the credit is mine. Did I not cause the ring to jump 
out of the J ew’s mouth ? ” 

" No, it is mine,” cried the lame one, " for I ran off 
with the ring.” 

And from high words they soon came to blows, and, 
alas ! when the quarrel was fiercest the bronze ring fell 
into the sea. 

" How are we to face our queen,” said the three mice, 
"when by our folly we have lost the talisman and con- 
demned our people to be utterly exterminated? We can- 
not go back to our country; let us land on this desert 
island and there end our miserable lives.” No sooner said 
than done. The boat reached the island and the mice 
landed. 

The blind mouse was speedily deserted by her two 
sisters, who went off to hunt flies, but as she wandered 
sadly along the shore she found a dead fish and was eating 
it, when she felt something very hard. At her cries the 
other two mice ran up. 

" It is the bronze ring ! It is the talisman ! ” they cried 
joyfully, and getting into their boat again they soon 
reached the mouse island. It was time they did, for the 
captain was just going to land his cargo of cats, when a 
deputation of mice brought him the precious bronze ring. 

"Bronze ring,” commanded the young man, "obey thy 
master. Let my ship appear as it was before.” 

307 


Immediately the genii of the ring set to work and the 
old black vessel became once more the wonderful golden 
ship with sails of brocade; the handsome sailors ran to the 
silver masts and the silken ropes, and very soon they set 
sail for the capital. 

Ah! how merrily the sailors sang as they flew over the 
glassy sea! 

At last the port was reached. 

The captain landed and ran to the palace, where he 
found the Jew asleep. The princess clasped her husband 
in a long embrace. The magician tried to escape, but he 
was seized and bound with strong cords. 

The next day the Jew, tied to the tail of a savage mule 
loaded with nuts, was broken into many pieces as there 
were nuts upon the mule’s hack. 


* THE PIED PIPER 

Newtown - , or Franchville, as’t was called of old, is a 
sleepy little town, as you all may know, upon the Solent 
shore. Sleepy as it is now, it was once noisy enough, and 
what made the noise was — rats. The place was so in- 
fested with them as to be scarce worth living in. There 
wasn’t a barn or a corn-rick, a store-room or a cupboard, 
but they ate their way into it. Not a cheese but they 
gnawed it hollow, not a sugar puncheon but they cleared 
out. Why, the very mead and beer in the barrels was not 
safe from them. They’d gnaw a hole in the top of the 
tun, and down would go one master rat’s tail, and when he 
brought it up round would crowd all the friends and 
cousins, and each would have a suck at the tail. 

* A legend of the Isle of Wight. 

308 


Had they stopped here it might have been borne. But 
the squeaking and shrieking, the hurrying and scurrying, 
so that you could neither hear yourself speak nor get a 
wink of good honest sleep the livelong night! Not to 
mention that, Mamma must needs sit up, and keep watch 
and ward over baby’s cradle, or there’ d have been a big 
ugly rat running across the poor little fellow’s face, and 
doing who knows what mischief. 

Why didn’t the good people of the town have cats? 
Well, they did, and there was a fair stand-up fight, but 
in the end the rats were too many, and the pussies were 
regularly driven from the field. Poison, I hear you say? 
Why, they poisoned so many that it fairly bred a plague. 
Ratcatchers! Why, there wasn’t a ratcatcher from John 
O’Groat’s house to the Land’s End that hadn’t tried his 
luck. But do what they might, cats or poison, terrier or 
traps, there seemed to be more rats than ever, and every 
day a fresh rat was cocking his tail or pricking his whiskers. 

The Mayor and the town council were at their wit’s 
end. As they were sitting one day in the town hall rack- 
ing their poor brains, and bewailing their hard fate, who 
should run in but the town beadle. “ Please your 
Honour,” says he, “here is a very queer fellow come to 
town. I don’t know rightly what to make of him.” 
“ Show him in,” said the Mayor, and in he stepped. A 
queer fellow, truly. For there wasn’t a colour of the 
rainbow but you might find it in some corner of his dress, 
and he was tall and thin, and had keen piercing eyes. 

“ I’m called the Pied Piper,” he began. “ And pray 
what might you be willing to pay me, if I rid you of every 
single rat in Franchville ? ” 

Well, much as they feared the rats, they feared parting 
with their money, and fain would they have higgled and 
haggled. But the Piper was not a man to stand nonsense, 
309 


and the upshot was that fifty pounds were promised him 
(and it meant a lot of money in those days) as soon as 
not a rat was left to squeak or scurry in Franchville. 

Out of the hall stepped the Piper, and as he stepped he 
laid his pipe to his lips and a shrill keen tune sounded 
through street and house. And as each note pierced the air 
you might have seen a strange sight. For out of every hole 
the rats came tumbling. There were none too old and 
none too young, none too big and none too little to crowd 
at the Piper’s heels and with eager feet and upturned 
noses to patter after him as he paced the streets. Nor was 
the Piper unmindful of the little toddling ones, for every 
fifty yards he’d stop and give an extra flourish on his pipe 
just to give them time to keep up with the older and 
stronger of the band. 

Up Silver Street he went, and down Gold Street, and 
at the end of Gold Street is the harbour and the broad 
Solent beyond. And as he paced along, slowly and gravely, 
the townsfolk flocked to door and window and many a bless- 
ing they called down upon his head. 

As for getting near him there were too many rats. And 
now that he was at the water’s edge he stepped into a boat, 
and not a rat, as he shoved off into deep water, piping 
shrilly all the while, but followed him, splashing, paddling, 
and wagging their tails with delight. On and on he 
played and played until the tide went down, and each 
master rat sank deeper and deeper in the slimy ooze of 
the harbour, until every mother’s son of them was dead 
and smothered. 

The tide rose again, and the Piper stepped on shore, but 
never a rat followed. You may fancy the townsfolk had 
been throwing up their caps and hurrahing and stopping 
up rat holes and setting the church bells a-ringing. But 
when the Piper stepped ashore, and not so much as a 
single squeak was to be heard, the Mayor and the Council, 
310 


and the townsfolk generally began to hum and to ha and 
to shake their heads. 

For the town money chest had been sadly emptied of 
late, and where was the fifty pounds to come from ? Such 
an easy job, too! Just getting into a boat and playing 
a pipe ! Why, the Mayor himself could have done that if 
only he had thought of it. 

So he hummed and ha’ad and at last, “ Come, my good 
man,” said he, “you see what poor folk we are; how can 
we manage to pay you fifty pounds? Will you not take 
twenty? When all is said and done ’twill be good pay 
for the trouble you’ve taken.” 

“ Fifty pounds was what I bargained for,” said the 
Piper shortly ; “ and if I were you I’d pay it quickly. For 
I can pipe many kinds of tunes, as folk sometimes find to 
their cost.” 

“Would you threaten us, you strolling vagabond?” 
shrieked the Mayor, and at the same time he winked to 
the Council; “the rats are all dead and drowned,” mut- 
tered he ; “ and so you may do your worst, my good man,” 
and with that he turned short upon his heel. 

“Very well,” said the Piper, and he smiled a quiet 
smile. With that he laid his pipe to his lips afresh, but 
now there came forth no shrill notes, as it were of scrap- 
ing and gnawing, and squeaking and scurrying, but the 
tune was joyous and resonant, full of happy laughter and 
merry play. And as he paced down the street the elders 
mocked, but from school-room and play-room, from nursery 
and workshop, not a child but ran out with eager glee and 
shout following gaily at the Piper’s call. Dancing, laugh- 
ing, joining hands and tripping feet, the bright throng 
moved along up Gold Street and down Silver Street and 
beyond Silver Street lay the cool green forests full of old 
oaks and wide spreading beeches. In and out among the 
oak trees you might catch glimpses of the Piper’s many 
311 


coloured coat. You might hear the laughter of the chil- 
dren break and fade and die away as deeper into the lone 
green wood the stranger went and the children followed. 

All the while the elders watched and waited. They 
mocked no longer now. And watch and wait as they 
might, never did they set their eyes again upon the Piper 
in his parti-coloured coat. Never were their hearts 
gladdened by the song and dance of the children issuing 
forth from amongst the ancient oaks of the forests. 


THE BLUE MOUNTAINS 

There were once a Scotsman and an Englishman and an 
Irishman serving in the army together, who took it into 
their heads to run away on the first opportunity they could 
get. The chance came, and they took it. They went on 
travelling for two days through a great forest without food 
or drink and without coming across a single house, and 
every night they had to climb up into the trees through fear 
of the wild beasts that were in the wood. On the second 
morning the Scotsman saw from the top of his tree a great 
castle far away. He said to himself that he would certainly 
die if he stayed in the forest without anything to eat but 
the roots of grass, which would not keep him alive very 
long. As soon, then, as he got down out of the tree he set 
off toward the castle, without so much as telling his com- 
panions that he had seen it at all. Perhaps the hunger and 
want they had suffered had changed their nature so much 
that the one did not care what became of the other if he 
could save himself. He travelled on most of the day, so 
that it was quite late when he reached the castle and 
to his great disappointment, found nothing but closed 
doors and no smoke rising from the chimneys. He thought 
312 



“ The elders mocked, but the children followed ” 



there was nothing for it but to die, after all, and had lain 
down beside the wall, when he heard a window being 
opened high above him. At this he looked up and saw 
the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. 

“ Oh, it is fortune that has sent you to me ! ” he 
said. 

“ It is, indeed,” said she. “What are you in need of, 
or what has sent you here ? ” 

“Necessity,” said he. “I am dying for want of food 
and drink.” 

“Come inside, then,” she said. “There is plenty of 
both here.” 

Accordingly, he went in to where she was, and she 
opened a large room for him, where he saw a number of 
men lying asleep. She then set food before him and after 
that showed him to the room where the others were. He 
lay down on one of the beds and fell asleep. And now 
we must go back to the two that he left behind him in the 
wood. 

When nightfall and the time of the wild beasts came 
upon these, the Englishman happened to climb up into 
the very same tree on which the Scotsman was when he 
got sight of the castle; and as soon as the day began to 
dawn and the Englishman looked to the four quarters of 
heaven, what did he see but the castle too! Off he went 
without saying a word to the Irishman, and every- 
thing happened to him just as it had done to the Scotch- 
man. 

The poor Irishman was now left all alone, and did not 
know where the others had gone to, so he just stayed 
where he was, very sad and miserable. When night came 
he climbed up into the same tree as the Englishman had 
done on the night before. As soon as day came he also 
saw the castle and set out toward it ; but when he reached 
it he could see no signs of fire or living being about it. 
313 


Before long, however, he heard the window opened above 
his head, looked up, and beheld the most beautiful he had 
ever seen. He asked if she would give him food and drink, 
and she answered kindly and heartily that she would if 
he would only come inside. This he did very willingly, 
and she set before him food and drink that he had never 
seen the like of before. In the room there was a bed, with 
diamond rings hanging at every loop of the curtains, and 
everything that was in the room besides astonished him so 
much that he actually forgot that he was hungry. When 
she saw that he was not eating at all she asked him what he 
w r anted yet, to which he replied that he would neither eat 
nor drink until he knew who she was, or where she came 
from, or who had put her there. 

“ I shall tell you that,” said she. “ I am an enchanted 
princess, and my father has promised that the man who 
releases me from the spell shall have the third of his king- 
dom while he is alive and the whole of it after he is dead, 
and marry me as well. If ever I saw a man who looked 
likely to do this, you are the one. I have been here for six- 
teen years now, and no one who ever came to the castle has 
asked me who I was except yourself. Every other man 
that has come, so long as I have been here, lies asleep in 
the big room down there.” 

“ Tell me, then,” said the Irishman, “ w T hat is the spell 
that has been laid on you and how you can be freed from 
it.” 

“ There is a little room there,” said the princess, “ and if 
I could get a man to stay in it from ten o’clock till mid- 
night for three nights on end I should be freed from the 
spell.” 

“ I am the man for you, then,” said he. “ I will take on 
hand to do it.” 

Thereupon she brought him a pipe and tobacco, and he 
went into the room; but before long he heard a hammering 
314 


and knocking on the outside of the door and was told to 
open it. 

“ I won’t/’ he said. 

The next moment the door came flying in, and those out- 
side along with it. They knocked him down, and kicked 
him, and knelt on his body till it came to midnight ; but as 
soon as the cock crew they all disappeared. The Irishman 
was little more than alive by this time. As soon as daylight 
appeared the princess came and found him lying full length 
on the floor, unable to speak a word. She took a bottle, 
rubbed him from head to foot with something from it, and 
thereupon he was as sound as ever; but after what he had 
got that night he was very unwilling to try it a second time. 
The princess, however, entreated him to stay, saying that 
the next night would not be so bad, and in the end he 
gave in and stayed. 

When it was getting near midnight he heard them or- 
dering him to open the door, and there were three of them 
for every one that there had been the previous evening. 
He did not make the slightest movement to go out to them 
or to open the door, but before long they broke it up and 
were in on top of him. They laid hold of him and kept 
throwing him between them up to the ceiling or jumping 
above him until the cock crew, when they all disappeared. 
When day came the princess went to the room to see if he 
was still alive, and taking the bottle put it to his nostrils, 
which soon brought him to himself. The first thing he 
said then was that he was a fool to go on getting himself 
killed for any one he ever saw, and was determined to be 
off and stay there no longer. When the princess learned 
his intentions she entreated him to stay, reminding him 
that another night would free her from the spell. “ Be- 
sides,” she said, “ if there is a single spark of life in you 
when the day comes, the stuff that is in this bottle will 
make you as sound as ever you were.” 

315 


With all this the Irishman decided to stay; but that 
night there were three at him for every one that was there 
the two nights before, and it looked very unlikely that he 
w r ould be alive in the morning after all that he got. When 
morning dawned and the princess came to see if he was 
still alive, she found him lying on the floor as if dead. She 
tried to see if there was breath in him, but could not quite 
make it out. Then she put her hand on his pulse and 
found a faint movement in it. Accordingly, she poured 
w r hat was in the bottle on him, and before long he rose up 
on his feet and was as well as ever he was. So that busi- 
ness was finished and the princess was freed from the spell. 

The princess then told the Irishman that she must go 
away for the present, but would return for him in a few 
days in a carriage drawn by four grey horses. He told 
her to " be aisy ” and not speak like that to him. “ I 
have paid dear for you for the last three nights,” he said, 
"if I have to part with you now”; but in the twinkling 
of an eye she had disappeared. He did not know what to 
do with himself when he saw that she was gone, but before 
she went she had given him a little rod, with which he 
could, when he pleased, waken the men who had been 
sleeping there, some of them for sixteen years. 

After being thus left alone, he went in and stretched 
himself on three chairs that were in the room, when what 
does he see coming in at the door but a little fair-haired 
lad! 

"Where did you come from, my lad?” said the Irish- 
man. 

" I came to make ready your food for you,” said he. 

" Who told you to do that ? ” said the Irishman. 

"My mistress,” answered the lad — "the princess that 
was under the spell and is now free.” 

By this the Irishman knew that she had sent the lad to 
wait on him. The lad also told him that his mistress 
316 


wished him to be ready next morning at nine o’clock, when 
she would come for him with the carriage, as she had 
promised. He was greatly pleased at this, and next morn- 
ing, when the time was drawing near, went out into the 
garden; but the little fair-headed lad took a big pin out 
of his pocket and stuck it into the hack of the Irishman’s 
coat without his noticing it, whereupon he fell sound 
asleep. 

Before long the princess came with the carriage and 
four horses and asked the lad whether his master was 
awake. He said that he wasn’t. “ It is bad for him/’’ 
said she, “when the night is not long enough for him to 
sleep. Tell him if he doesn’t meet me this time to-morrow 
it is not likely that he will ever see me again all his life.” 

As soon as she was gone the fair-haired lad took the pin 
out of his master’s coat, who instantly awoke. The first 
word he said to the lad was : “ Have you seen her ? ” 

“ Yes,” said he, “ and she hade me tell you that if you 
don’t meet her at nine o’clock to-morrow you will never 
see her again.” 

He was very sorry when he heard this, and could not 
understand why the sleep should have fallen upon him just 
when she was coming. He decided, however, to go early 
to bed that night, in order to rise in time next morning, 
and so he did. When it was getting near nine o’clock he 
went out to the garden to wait till she came, and the fair- 
haired lad along with him, but as soon as the lad got a 
chance he stuck the pin into his master’s coat again, and 
he fell asleep as before. Precisely at nine o’clock came 
the princess in her carriage with four horses and asked 
the lad if his master had got up yet; but he said: “Ho, 
he is asleep, just as he was the day before.” 

“ Dear ! dear ! ” said the princess. “ I am sorry for 
him. Was the sleep he had last night not long enough for 
him ? Tell him that he will never see me here again ; and 
317 


here is a sword that yon will give him in my name, and 
my blessing along with it.” 

With this she went off, and as soon as she had gone the 
lad took the pin out of the master’s coat. He awoke in- 
stantly, and the first word he said was : “ Have you seen 

her ? ” The lad said that he had, and there was the sword 
she had left for him. The Irishman was ready to kill the 
lad out of sheer vexation, but when he gave a glance over 
his shoulder not a trace of the fair-haired lad was left. 

Being thus left all alone, he thought of going into the 
room where all the men were lying asleep, and there among 
the rest he found his two comrades who had deserted along 
with him. Then he remembered what the princess had 
told him — that he had only to touch them with the rod 
she had given him and they would all awake; and the first 
he touched were his own comrades. They started to their 
feet at once, and he gave them as much silver and gold as 
they could carry when they went away. There was plenty 
to do before he got all the others wakened, for the two 
doors of the castle were crowded with them all the day 
long. 

The loss of the princess kept rankling in his mind day 
and night, till finally he thought he would go about the 
world to see if he could find any one to give him news of 
her. So he took the best horse in the stable and set out. 
Three years he spent travelling through forests and wil- 
dernesses; but could find no one able to tell him anything 
of the princess. At last he fell into so great despair that 
he thought he would put an end to his own life, and for 
this purpose laid hold of the sword that she had given him 
by the hands of the fair-haired lad; but on drawing it 
from its sheath he noticed that there was some writing on 
one side of the blade. He looked at this, and read there : 
“You will find me in the Blue Mountains.” This made 
him take heart again, and he gave up the idea of killing 
318 


himself, thinking that he would go on in hope of meeting 
some one who could tell him where the Blue Mountains 
were. After he had gone a long way, without thinking 
where he was going, he saw at last a light far away and 
made straight for it. On reaching it he found it came 
from a little house, and as soon as the man inside heard 
the noise of the horse’s feet he came out to see who was 
there. Seeing a stranger on horseback, he asked what 
brought him there and where he was going. 

“ I have lived here,” said he, “ for three hundred years, 
and all that time I have not seen a single human being 
but yourself.” 

“ I have been going about for the last three years,” said 
the Irishman, “ to see if I could find any one who can tell 
me where the Blue Mountains are.” 

“ Come in,” said the old man, “ and stay with me all 
night. I have a book which contains the history of the 
world, which I shall go through to-night, and if there is 
such a place as the Blue Mountains in it we shall find it 
out.” 

The Irishman stayed there all night, and as soon as 
morning came rose to go. The old man said he had 
not gone to sleep all night for going through the book, 
but there was not a word about the Blue Mountains in it. 
“ But I’ll tell you what,” said he : “ if there is such a 
place on earth at all, I have a brother who lives nine hun- 
dred miles from here, and he is sure to know where they 
are if any one in this world does.” The Irishman an- 
swered that he never could go those nine hundred miles, 
for his horse was giving in already. “ That doesn’t mat- 
ter,” said the old man. “ I can do better than that. I 
have only to blow my whistle and you will be at my 
brother’s house before nightfall.” 

So he blew his whistle, and the Irishman did not know 
where on earth he was until he found himself at the other 
319 


old man’s door, who also told him it was three hundred 
years since he had seen any one and asked him where he 
was going. 

" I am going to see if I can find any one that can tell 
me where the Blue Mountains are,” he said. 

"If you will stay with me to-night,” said the old man, 
"I have a book of the history of the world, and I shall 
know where they are before daylight if there is such a 
place in it at all.” 

He stayed there all night, hut there was not a word in 
the book about the Blue Mountains. Seeing that he was 
rather cast down, the old man told him that he had a 
brother nine hundred miles away, and that if information 
could be got about them from any one, it would be from 
him ; " and I will enable you,” he said, " to reach the place 
where he lives before night.” So he blew his whistle, and 
the Irishman landed at the brother’s house before night- 
fall. When the old man saw him he said he had not seen 
a single man for three hundred years, and was very much 
surprised to see any one come to him now. 

"Where are you going to?” he said. 

" I am going about asking for the Blue Mountains,” said 
the Irishman. 

"The Blue Mountains?” said the old man. 

"Yes,” said the Irishman. 

" I never heard the name before ; but if they do exist I 
shall find them out. I am master of all the birds in the 
world, and have only to blow my whistle and every one 
will come to me. I shall then ask each of them to tell 
where it came from, and if there is any way of finding out 
the Blue Mountains that is it.” 

So he blew his whistle, and when he blew it all the birds 
of the world began to gather. The old man questioned 
each of them as to where they had come from, but there 
was not one of them that had come from the Blue Moun- 
320 


tains. After lie had run over them all, however, he missed 
a big eagle that was wanting, and wondered that it had 
not come. Soon afterward he saw something big coming 
toward him, darkening the sky. It kept coming nearer 
and growing bigger, and what was this, after all, but the 
eagle ! When she arrived the old man scolded her and 
asked what had kept her so long behind. 

“ I couldn’t help it,” she said. “ I had more than 
twenty times further to come than any bird that has come 
here to-day.” 

“ Where have you come from, then?” said the old man. 

“ From the Blue Mountains,” said she. 

“ Indeed ! ” said the old man ; “ and what are they doing 
there ? ” 

“ They are making ready this very day,” said the eagle, 
“ for the marriage of the daughter of the King of the Blue 
Mountains. For three years now she has refused to marry 
any one whatsoever, until she should give up all hope of 
the coming of the man who released her from the spell. 
Now she can wait no longer, for three years is the time 
that she agreed with her father to remain without marry- 
ing.” 

The Irishman knew that it was for himself she had 
been waiting so long, but he was unable to make any better 
of it, for he had no hope of reaching the Blue Mountains 
all his life. The old man noticed how sad he grew, and 
asked the eagle what she would take for carrying this man 
on her back to the Blue Mountains. 

“ I must have threescore cattle killed,” said she, “and 
cut up into quarters, and every time I look over my shoul- 
der he must throw one of them into my mouth.” 

As soon as the Irishman and the old man heard her 
demand they went out hunting, and before evening they 
had killed three score cattle. They made quarters of 
them as the eagle told them, and then the old man asked 
321 


her to lie down till they would get it all heaped up on her 
back. First of all, though, they had to get a ladder of 
fourteen steps to enable them to get on to the eagle’s 
back, and there they piled up the meat as well as they 
could. Then the old man told the Irishman to mount, 
and to remember to throw a quarter of beef to her every 
time she looked round. He went up, and the old man gave 
the eagle the word to be off, which she instantly obeyed; 
and every time she turned her head the Irishman threw a 
quarter of beef into her mouth. 

As they came near the borders of the kingdom of the 
Blue Mountains, however, the beef was done, and when 
the eagle looked over her shoulder what was the Irishman 
at but throwing the stone between her tail and her neck ! 
At this she turned a complete somersault and threw the 
Irishman off into the sea, where he fell into the bay that 
was right in front of the king’s palace. Fortunately the 
points of his toes just touched the bottom, and he man- 
aged to get ashore. 

When he went up into the town all the streets were 
gleaming with light and the wedding of the princess was 
just about to begin. He went into the first house he came 
to, and this happened to be the house of the king’s hen- 
wife. He asked the old woman what was causing all the 
noise and light in the town. 

“The princess,” said she, “is going to be married to- 
night against her will, for she has been expecting every 
day that the man who freed her from the spell would 
come.” 

“ There’s a guinea for you,” said he. “ Go and bring 
her here.” 

The old woman went, and soon returned along with the 
princess. She and the Irishman recognised each other, 
and were married, and had a great wedding that lasted for 
a year and a day. 


322 


BLOCKHEAD HANS 


Far away in the country lay an old manor-house where 
lived an old squire who had two sons. They thought 
themselves so clever that, if they had known only half 
what they thought they knew, it would have been enough. 
They both wanted to marry the king’s daughter, for she 
had proclaimed that she would have for her husband the 
man who knew best how to choose his words. 

Both prepared for the wooing a whole week, which was 
the longest time allowed them; but, after all, it was quite 
long enough, for they both had preparatory knowledge, 
and every one knows how useful that is. One knew the 
whole Latin dictionary and also three years’ issue of the 
daily paper of the town off by heart, so that he could re- 
peat it all backward or forward, as you pleased. The other 
had worked at the laws of the corporation and knew by 
heart what every member of the corporation ought to 
know, so that he thought he could quite speak on state 
matters and give his opinion. He understood, besides this, 
how to embroider with roses and other flowers and scrolls, 
for he was very ready with his fingers. 

“ I shall win the king’s daughter ! ” they both cried. 

Their old father gave each of them a fine horse; the one 
who knew the dictionary and the daily paper by heart had 
a black horse, while the other who was so clever at cor- 
poration law had a milk-white one. Then they oiled the 
corners of their mouths so that they might be able to speak 
more fluently. All the servants stood in the courtyard 
and saw them mount their steeds, and here by chance came 
the third brother; for the squire had three sons, but no- 
body counted him with his brothers, for he was not so 
323 


learned as they were, and he was generally called Block- 
head Hans. 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” said Blockhead Hans. <e Where are you off 
to? You are in your Sunday-best clothes!” 

u We are going to court to woo the princess ! Don’t you 
know what is known throughout all the countryside ? ” 
And they told him all about it. 

“ Hurrah! I’ll go too!” cried Blockhead Hans; and 
the brothers laughed at him and rode off. 

“ Dear father ! ” cried Blockhead Hans, “ I must have a 
horse too. What a desire for marriage has seized me ! If 
she will have me she will have me, and if she won’t have 
me I will have her.” 

“ Stop that nonsense ! ” said the old man. “ I will not 
give you a horse. You can’t speak; you don’t know how 
to choose your words. Your brothers. Ah ! they are very 
different lads ! ” 

“ Well,” said Blockhead Hans, “ if I can’t have a 
horse I will take a goat which is mine. He can carry 
me ! ” 

And he did so. He sat astride on the goat, struck his 
heels into his side, and went rattling down the highroad 
like a hurricane. 

Hoppetty-hop ! what a ride ! “ Here I come ! ” shouted 

Blockhead Hans, singing so that the echoes were roused 
far and near. But his brothers were riding slowly in 
front. They were not speaking, hut they were thinking 
over all the good things they were going to say, for every- 
thing had to be thought out. 

“ Hullo ! ” bawled Blockhead Hans ; “ here I am ! Just 
look what I found on the road ! ” And he showed them a 
dead crow which he had picked up. 

“ Blockhead ! ” said his brothers, “ what are you going 
to do with it ? ” 

“ With the crow ? I shall give it to the princess ! ” 
324 


“ Do so, certainly ! ” they said, laughing loudly and rid- 
ing on. 

“ Slap ! bang ! here I am again ! Look what I have just 
found ! You don’t find such things every day on the 
road ! ” 

And the brothers looked round to see what in the world 
he could have found. 

u Blockhead ! 99 said they, “ that is an old wooden shoe 
without the top ! Are you going to send that, too, to the 
princess ? 99 

Of course I shall ! 99 returned Blockhead Hans ; and 
the brothers laughed and rode on a good way. 

“ Slap ! hang ! here I am!” cried Blockhead Hans ; 
“ better and better — it is really famous ! ” 

“ What have you found now ? ” asked the brothers. 

“ Oh,” said Blockhead Hans, “ it is really too good ! 
How pleased the princess will be ! ” 

“ Why ! ” said the brothers, “ this is pure mud, straight 
from the ditch.” 

“ Of course it is ! 99 said Blockhead Hans, “ and it is 
the best kind l Look how it runs through one’s fingers ! ” 
And so saying he filled his pockets with the mud. 

But the brothers rode on so fast that dust and sparks 
flew all around, and they reached the gate of the town a 
good hour before Blockhead Hans. Here came the suitors, 
numbered according to their arrival, and they were ranged 
in rows, six in each row, and they were so tightly packed 
that they could not move their arms. This was a very 
good thing, for otherwise they would have torn each other 
in pieces, merely because one was in front of the other. 

All the country people were standing round the king’s 
throne, and were crowded together in thick masses almost 
out of the windows to see the princess receive the suitors; 
and as each one came into the room all his fine phrases 
went out like a candle! 


325 


“ It doesn’t matter ! ” said the princess. “ Away ! out 
with him ! ” 

At last she came to the row in which the brother who 
knew the dictionary by heart was, but he did not know it 
any longer ; he had quite forgotten it in the rank and file. 
And the floor creaked and the ceiling was all made of 
glass mirrors, so that he saw himself standing on his head, 
and by each window were standing three reporters and an 
editor ; and each of them was writing down what was said, 
to publish it in the paper that came out and was sold at 
the street corners for a penny. It was fearful, and they 
had made up the fire so hot that it was grilling. 

“It is hot in here, isn’t it?” said the suitor. 

“ Of course it is ! My father is roasting young chickens 
to-day ! ” said the princess. 

“ Ahem ! ” There he stood like an idiot. He was not 
prepared for such a speech; he did not know what to say, 
although he wanted to say something witty. “ Ahem ! ” 

“ It doesn’t matter ! ” said the princess. “ Take him 
out ! ” and out he had to go. 

How the other brother entered. 

“ How hot it is ! ” he said. 

“Of course ! We are roasting young chickens to-day ! ” 
remarked the princess. 

“ How do you — um ! ” he said, and the reporters wrote 
down, “ How do you — um.” 

“It doesn’t matter!” said the princess. “Take him 
out ! ” 

Now Blockhead Hans came in. He rode his goat right 
into the hall. 

“ I say ! How roasting hot it is here ! ” said he. 

“ Of course ! I am roasting young chickens to-day ! ” 
said the princess. 

“ That’s good ! ” replied Blockhead Hans. “ Then, can 
I roast a crow with them ? ” 


326 


"With the greatest of pleasure! 5 ’ said the princess; 
“ but have you anything you can roast it in ? I have 
neither pot nor saucepan.” 

“ Oh, rather ! ” said Blockhead Hans. “ Here is a 
cooking implement with tin rings,” and he drew out the 
old wooden shoe and laid the crow in it. 

“ That is quite a meal ! ” said the princess ; “ but where 
shall we get the soup from?” 

“ I’ve got that in my pocket ! ” said Blockhead Hans. 
“ I have so much that I can quite well throw some away ! ” 
and he poured some mud out of his pocket. 

u I like you ! ” said the princess. “ You can answer 
and you can speak, and I will marry you. But do you 
know that every word which we are saying and have said 
has been taken down and will be in the paper to-morrow? 
By each window, do you see, there are standing three re- 
porters and an old editor, and this old editor is the worst, 
for he doesn’t understand anything ! ” But she only said 
this to tease Blockhead Hans. And the reporters giggled 
and each dropped a drop of ink on the floor. 

“ Ah ! are those the great people ? ” said Blockhead 
Hans. u Then I will give the editor the best ! ” So say- 
ing, he turned his pockets inside out and threw the mud 
right in his face. 

“ That was neatly done ! ” said the princess. “ I 
couldn’t have done it, but I will soon learn how to ! ” 

Blockhead Hans became king, got a wife and a crown, 
and sat on the throne; and this we have still damp from 
the newspaper of the editor and the reporters — and they 
are not to be believed for a moment. 


327 


HERMOD AND HADVOR 


Once upon a time there was a king and a queen who had 
an only daughter, called Hadvor, who was fair and beauti- 
ful, and being an only child was heir to the kingdom. 
The king and queen had also a foster-son, named Hermod, 
who was just about the same age as Hadvor and was good- 
looking, as well as clever at most things. Hermod and 
Hadvor often played together while they were children, 
and liked each other so much that while they were still 
young they secretly plighted their troth to each other. 

As time went on the queen fell sick, and, suspecting 
that it was her last illness, sent for the king to come to her. 
When he came she told him that she had no long time to 
live and therefore wished to ask one thing of him, which 
was that, if he married another wife, he should promise 
to take no other one than the Queen of Hetland the Good. 
The king gave the promise, and thereafter the queen died. 

Time went past, and the king, growing tired of living 
alone, fitted out his ship and sailed out to sea. As he 
sailed there came upon him so thick a mist that he alto- 
gether lost his bearings, but after long trouble he found 
land. There he laid his ship to and went on shore all 
alone. After walking for some time he came to a forest, 
into which he went a little way and stopped. Then he 
heard sweet music from a harp, and went in the direction 
of the sound until he came to a clearing, and there he 
saw three women, one of whom sat on a golden chair and 
was beautiful and grandly dressed; she held a harp in 
her hands and was very sorrowful. The second was also 
finely dressed, but younger in appearance, and also sat on 
a chair, but it was not so grand as the first one’s. The 
328 


third stood beside them, and was very pretty to look at; 
she had a green cloak over her other clothes, and it was 
easy to see that she was maid to the other two. 

After the king had looked at them for a little he went 
forward and saluted them. The one that sat on the golden 
chair asked him who he was and where he was going; and 
he told her all the story — how he was king and had lost 
his queen, and was now on his way to Hetland the Good 
to ask the queen of that country in marriage. She an- 
swered that fortune had contrived this wonderfully, for 
pirates had plundered Hetland and killed the king, and 
she had fled from the land in terror and had come hither 
after great trouble, and she was the very person he was 
looking for, and the others were her daughter and maid. 
The king immediately asked her hand; she gladly re- 
ceived his proposal and accepted him at once. Thereafter 
they all set out and made their way to the ship, and after 
that nothing is told of their voyage until the king reached 
his own country. There he made a great feast and cele- 
brated his marriage with this woman, and after that things 
are quiet for a time. 

Hermod and Hadvor took but little notice of the queen 
and her daughter, but, on the other hand, Hadvor and the 
queen’s maid, whose name was Olof, were very friendly, 
and Olof came often to visit Hadvor in her castle. Be- 
fore long the king went out to war, and no sooner was he 
away than the queen came to talk with Hermod, and said 
that she wanted him to marry her daughter. Hermod told 
her straight and plain that he would not do so, at which the 
queen grew terribly angry, and said that in that case 
neither should he have Hadvor, for she would now lay this 
spell on him, that he should go to a desert island and there 
be a lion by day and a man by night. He should also 
think always of Hadvor, which would cause- him all the 
more sorrow, and from this spell he should never be freed 
329 


until Hadvor burned the lion’s skin, and that would not 
happen very soon. 

As soon as the queen had finished her speech Hermod 
replied that he also laid a spell on her, and that was that 
as soon as he was freed from her enchantments she should 
become a rat and her daughter a mouse, and fight with 
each other in the hall until he killed them with his sword. 

After this Hermod disappeared, and no one knew what 
had become of him ; the queen caused search to be made for 
him, but he could nowhere be found. One time, when Olof 
was in the castle beside Hadvor, she asked the princess if 
she knew where Hermod had gone to. At this Hadvor be- 
came very sad and said that she did not. 

“ I shall tell you, then,” said Olof, “ for I know all about 
it. Hermod has disappeared through the wicked devices 
of the queen, for she is a witch and so is her daughter, 
though they have put on these beautiful forms. Because 
Hermod would not fall in with the queen’s plans and 
marry her daughter she has laid a spell on him, to go on 
an island and be a lion by day and a man by night, and 
never be freed from this until you burn the lion’s skin. 
Besides,” said Olof, “ she has looked out a match for you. 
She has a brother in the underworld, a three-headed giant, 
whom she means to turn into a beautiful prince and get 
him married to you. This is no new thing for the queen. 
She took me away from my parents’ house and compelled 
me to serve her, but she has never done me any harm, for 
the green cloak I wear protects me against all mischief.” 

Hadvor now became still sadder than before at the 
thought of the marriage destined for her, and entreated 
Olof to think of some plan to save her. 

“ I think,” said Olof, “that your wooer will come up 
through the floor of the castle to you, and so you must be 
prepared when you hear the noise of his coming and the 
floor begins to open, and have at hand blazing pitch and 
330 


pour plenty of it into the opening. That will prove too 
much for him.” 

About this time the king came home from his expedition, 
and thought it a great blow that no one knew what had 
become of Hermod; but the queen consoled him as best 
she could, and after a time the king thought less about 
his disappearance. 

Hadvor remained in her castle and had made prepara- 
tions to receive her wooer when he came. One night, not 
long after, a loud noise and rumbling was heard under the 
castle. Hadvor at once guessed what it was and told her 
maids to be ready to help her. The noise and thundering 
grew louder and louder, until the floor began to open, 
whereupon Hadvor made them take the caldron of pitch, 
and pour plenty of it into the opening. With that the 
noises grew fainter and fainter, till at last they ceased alto- 
gether. 

Next morning the queen rose early and went out to the 
palace gate, and there she found her brother the giant 
lying dead. She went up to him, and said: “ I pro- 
nounce this spell, that you become a beautiful prince, and 
that Hadvor shall be unable to say anything against the 
charges that I shall bring against her.” 

The body of the dead giant now became that of a beauti- 
ful prince and the queen went in again. 

“ I don’t think,” said she to the king, “ that your daugh- 
ter is as good as she is said to be. My brother came and 
asked her hand, and she has had him put to death. I have 
just found his dead body lying at the palace gate.” 

The king went along with the queen to see his body and 
thought all very strange; so beautiful a youth, he said, 
would have been a worthy match for Hadvor, and he would 
readily have agreed to their marriage. The queen asked 
leave to decide what Hadvor’s punishment should be, which 
the king was very willing to allow, so as to escape from 
331 


punishing his own daughter. The queen’s decision \ras 
that the king should make a big grave-mound for her 
brother and put Hadvor into it beside him. 

Olof knew all the plans of the queen and went to tell 
the princess what had been done, whereupon Hadvor ear- 
nestly entreated her to tell her what to do. 

“ First and foremost/’ said Olof, “ you must get a wide 
cloak to wear over your other clothes when you are put into 
the mound. The giant’s ghost will walk after you are 
both left together in there, and he will have two dogs along 
with him. He will ask you to cut pieces out of his legs to 
give to the dogs, but that you must not promise to do unless 
he tells you where Hermod has gone to and tells you how 
to find him. He will then let you stand on his shoulders, 
so as to get out of the mound; but he means to cheat you, 
all the same; and will catch you by the cloak to pull 
you back again; but you must take care to have the cloak 
loose on your shoulders, so that he will only get hold of 
that.” 

The mound was all ready now and the giant laid in it, 
and into it Hadvor also had to go without being allowed to 
make any defence. After they were both left there every- 
thing happened just as Olof had said. The prince became 
a giant again and asked Hadvor to cut the pieces out of his 
legs for the dogs; but she refused until he told her that 
Hermod was in a desert island, which she could not reach 
unless she took the skin off the soles of his feet and made 
shoes out of that; with these shoes she could travel both on 
land and sea. This Hadvor now did, and the giant then 
let her get up on his shoulders to get out of the mound. 
As she sprang out he caught hold of her cloak, but she had 
taken care to let it lie loose on her shoulders, and so es- 
caped. 

She now made her w r ay down to the sea, to where she knew 
there was the shortest distance over to the island in which 
332 


Hermod was. This strait was easily crossed, for the shoes 
kept her up. On reaching the island she found a sandy 
beach all along by the sea and high cliffs above. Nor could 
she see any way to get up these, and so, being both sad at 
heart and tired with the long journey, she lay down and 
fell asleep. As she slept she dreamed that a tall woman 
came to her and said : 

“ I know that you are Princess Hadvor and are searching 
for Hermod. He is on this island, but it will be hard for 
you to get to him if you have no one to help you, for you 
cannot climb the cliffs by your own strength. I have there- 
fore let down a rope, by which you will be able to climb 
up; and as the island is so large that you might not find 
Hermod’s dwelling-place so easily, I lay down this clue 
beside you. You need only hold the end of the thread, 
and the clue will run on before and show you the way. I 
also lay this belt beside you, to put on when you awaken ; it 
will keep you from growing faint with hunger. 

The woman now disappeared, and Hadvor woke and 
saw that all her dream had been true. The rope hung 
down from the cliff and the clue and belt lay beside her. 
The belt she put on, the rope enabled her to climb up the 
cliff, and the clue led her on till she came to the mouth 
of a cave which was not very big. She went into the cave 
and saw there a low couch, under which 6he crept and lay 
down. 

When evening came she heard the noise of footsteps out- 
side, and became aware that the lion had come to the 
mouth of the cave and shook itself there, after which she 
heard a man coming toward the couch. She was sure this 
was Hermod, because she heard him speaking to himself 
about his own condition and calling to mind Hadvor and 
other things in the old days. Hadvor made no sign, but 
waited till he had fallen asleep, and then crept out and 
burned the lion’s skin, which he had left outside. Then 
333 


she went back into the cave and wakened Hermod, and they 
had a most joyful meeting. 

In the morning they talked over their plans, and were 
most at a loss to know how to get out of the island. Had- 
vor told Hermod her dream, and said she suspected there 
was some one in the island who would be able to help them. 
Hermod said he knew of a witch there who was very ready 
to help any one, and that the only plan was to go to her. 
So they went to the witch’s cave and found her there with 
her fifteen young sons, and asked her to help them to get to 
the mainland. 

“ There are other things easier than that,” said she, “ for 
the giant that was buried will be waiting for you and will 
attack you on the way, as he has turned himself into a big 
whale. I shall lend you a boat, however, and if you meet 
the whale and think your lives are in danger, then you can 
name me by name.” 

They thanked her greatly for her help and advice and set 
out from the island, but on the way they saw a huge fish 
coming toward them with great splashing and dashing of 
waves. They were sure of what it was, and thought they 
had as good reason as ever they would have to call on the 
witch, and so they did. The next minute they saw coming 
after them another huge whale, followed by fifteen smaller 
ones. All of these swam past the boat and went on to meet 
the whale. There was a fierce battle then, and the sea 
became so stormy that it was not very easy to keep the boat 
from being filled by the waves. After this fight had gone 
on for some time they saw that the sea was dyed with blood ; 
the big whale and the fifteen smaller ones disappeared, and 
they got to the land safe and sound. 

Now the story goes back to the king’s hall, where strange 
things had happened in the meantime. The queen and her 
daughter had disappeared, but a rat and a mouse were al- 
ways fighting with each other there. Ever so many people 
334 


had tried to drive them away, but no one could manage it. 
Thus some time went on, while the king was almost beside 
himself with sorrow and care for the loss of his queen, and 
because these monsters destroyed all mirth in the hall. 

One evening, while they all sat dull and downhearted, in 
came Hermod with a sword by his side and saluted the king, 
who received him with the greatest joy, as if he had come 
back from the dead. Before Hermod sat down he went to 
where the rat and the mouse were fighting and cut them in 
two with his sword. All were astonished then by seeing 
two witches lying dead on the floor of the hall. 

Hermod now told the whole story to the king, who was 
very glad to be rid of such vile creatures. Next he asked 
for the hand of Hadvor, which the king readily gave him, 
and, being now an old man, gave the kingdom to him as 
well; and so Hermod became king. 

Olof married a good-looking nobleman, and that is the 
end of the story. 

TOM HICKATHRIFT 

Before the days of William the Conqueror there dwelt a 
man in the marsh of the Isle of Ely whose name was 
Thomas Hickathrift, a poor day labourer, but so strong 
that he could do two days’ work in one. His one son he 
called by his own name, Thomas Hickathrift, and he put 
him to good learning, but the lad was none of the wisest, 
and indeed seemed to be somewhat soft, so he got no good 
at all from his teaching. 

Tom’s father died, and his mother being tender of him, 
kept him as well as she could. The slothful would do 
nothing but sit in the chimney-corner, and eat as much at 
a time as would serve four or five ordinary men, and so 
much did he grow that when but ten years old he was 
335 


already eight feet high, and his hand like a shoulder of 
mutton. 

One day his mother went to a rich farmer’s house to beg 
a bottle of straw for herself and Tom. “ Take what you 
will,” said the farmer, an honest charitable man. So when 
she got home she told Tom to fetch the straw, but he 
wouldn’t till she borrowed for him a cart rope. So off he 
went, and when he came to the farmer’s, master and men 
were thrashing in the barn. 

“Pm come for the straw,” said Tom. 

“ Take as much as you can carry,” said the farmer. 

So Tom laid down his rope and began to make his bottle. 

“ Your rope is too short,” said the farmer by way of a 
joke; but the joke was on Tom’s side, for when he had 
made up his load there was some two tons of straw, and 
though they called him a fool for thinking he could carry 
a tithe of it, he flung it over his shoulder as if it had been 
a hundred weight, to the great admiration of master and 
men. 

Tom’s strength being thus made known there was no 
longer any basking by the fire for him ; every one would be 
hiring him to work, and telling him it was a shame to live 
such a lazy life. So Tom seeing them wait on him as they 
did, went to work first with one, then with another. And 
one day a woodman desired his help to bring home a tree. 
Off went Tom and four men besides, and when they came 
to the tree they began to draw it into the cart, with pulleys. 
At last Tom, seeing them unable to lift it, said : “ Stand 
away, you fools,” and taking the tree, set it on one end 
and laid it in the cart. “Now,” said he, “see what a 
man can do.” “ Marry, ’tis true,” said they, and the wood- 
man asked what reward he’d take. “ Oh, a stick for my 
mother’s fire,” said Tom; and espying a tree bigger than 
was in the cart, he laid it on his shoulders and went home 
with it as fast as the cart and six horses could draw it. 

336 


Tom now saw that he had more strength than twenty 
men, and began to be very merry, taking delight in com- 
pany, in going to fairs and meetings, in seeing sports and 
pastimes. And at cudgels, wrestling, or throwing the 
hammer, not a man could stand against him, so that at 
last none durst go into the to wrestle with him, and his 
fame was spread more and more in the country. 

Far and near he would go to any meetings, as football 
play or the like. And one day in a part of the country 
where he was a stranger, and none knew him, he stopped 
to watch the company at football play; rare sport it was; 
but Tom spoiled it all, for meeting the ball he gave it 
such a kick that away it flew none could tell whither. They 
were angry with Tom as you may fancy, but got nothing 
by that as Tom took hold of a big spar, and laid about 
with a will, so that though the whole countryside was up 
in arms against him, he cleared his way wherever he came. 

It was late in the evening ere he could turn homeward, 
and on the road there met him four lusty rogues that had 
been robbing passengers all day. They thought they had 
a good prize in Tom, who was all alone, and made cock- 
sure of his money. 

“ Stand and deliver,” said they. 

“What should I deliver?” said Tom. 

“Your money, sirrah,” said they. 

“ You shall give me better words for it first,” said Tom. 

“ Come, come, no more prating ; money we want, and 
money we’ll have before you stir.” 

“Is that so ? ” said Tom, “ nay, then come and take it.” 

The long and short of it was that Tom killed two of 
the rogues and grievously wounded the other two, and took 
all their money, which was as much as two hundred pounds. 
And when he came home he made his old mother laugh 
with the story of how he served the football players and the 
four thieves. 


337 


But you shall see that Tom sometimes met his match. 
In wandering one day in the forest he met a lusty tinker 
that had a good staff on his shoulder, and a great dog to 
carry his bag and tools. 

“ Whence came you and whither are you going ? ” said 
Tom. “ This is no highway.” 

“ What’s that to you?” said the tinker; “ fools must 
needs be meddling.” 

“ I’ll make you know,” said Tom, “ before you and I 
part, what it is to me.” 

“ Well,” said the tinker, “ I’m ready for a bout wdth 
any man, and I hear there is one Tom Hickathrift in the 
country of whom great things are told. I’d fain see him 
to have a turn with him.” 

“ Ay,” said Tom, “ methinks he might be master with 
you. Anyway I am the man; what have you to say to 
me?” 

“ Why, verily, I’m glad we are so happily met.” 

“ Sure, you do hut jest,” said Tom. 

“ Marry, I’m in earnest,” said the tinker. “ A match ? ” 
“’Tis done.” “Let me first get a twig,” said Tom. 
“ Ay,” said the tinker, “ hang him that would fight a man 
unarmed.” 

So Tom took a gate-rail for his staff, and at it they 
fell, the tinker at Tom and Tom at the tinker, like two 
giants they laid on at each other. The tinker had a leather 
coat on, and at every blow Tom gave the tinker his coat 
roared again, yet the tinker did not give way one inch. 
At last Tom gave him a blow on the side of his head which 
felled him. 

“Now, tinker, where are you?” said Tom. 

But the tinker being a nimble fellow, leapt up again, 
gave Tom a blow that made him reel again, and followed 
his blow with one on the other side that made Tom’s neck 
crack again. So Tom flung down his weapon and yielded 
338 


the tinker the better on it, took him home to his house, 
where they nursed their bruises, and from that day 
forth there was no stauncher pair of friends than they 
two. 

Tom’s fame was thus spread abroad till at length a 
brewer at Lynn, wanting a good lusty man to carry his 
beer to Wisbeach went to hire Tom, and promised him a 
new suit of clothes from top to toe, and that he should eat 
and drink of the best. So Tom yielded to be his man and 
his master told him what way he should go, for you must 
understand there was a monstrous giant who kept part of 
the marsh-land, so that none durst go that way. 

So Tom went every day to Wisbeach, a good twenty miles 
by the road. ’Twas a wearisome journey, thought Tom, 
and he soon found that the way kept by the giant was 
nearer by half. Now Tom had got more strength than 
ever, being well kept as he was and drinking so much 
strong ale as he did. One day, then, as he was going to 
Wisbeach, without saying anything to his master or any 
of his fellow servants, he resolved to take the nearest road 
or lose his life; as they say, to win horse or lose saddle. 
Thus resolved, he took the near road, flinging open the 
gates for his cart and horses to go through. At last the 
giant spied him, and came up speedily, intending to take 
his beer for a prize. 

He met Tom like a lion as though he would have swal- 
lowed him. “ Who gave you authority to come this way ? ” 
roared he. “ I’ll make you an example for all rogues un- 
der the sun. See how many heads hang on yonder tree. 
Yours shall hang higher than any of the rest for a warn- 
ing.” 

But Tom made him answer, “ A fig in your teeth, you 
shall not find me like one of them, traitorly rogue that you 
are.” 

The giant took these words in high disdain, and ran 
339 


into his cave to fetch his great chib, intending to dash out 
Tom’s brains at the first blow. 

Tom knew not what to do for a weapon ; his whip would 
be but little good against a monstrous beast twelve foot in 
length and six foot about the waist. But whilst the giant 
went for his club, bethinking him of a very good weapon, 
he made no more ado, but took his cart, turned it upside 
down, and took axle-tree and wheel for shield and buckler. 
And very good weapons they were found ! 

Out came the giant and began to stare at Tom. “ You 
are like to do great service with those weapons,” roared 
he. “ I have here a twig that will beat you and your wheel 
to the ground.” Now this twig was as thick as some mile- 
posts are, but Tom was not daunted for all that, though 
the giant made at him with such force that the wheel 
cracked again. But Tom gave as good as he got, taking 
the giant such a blow on the side of his head that he reeled 
again. “What,” said Tom, “are you drunk with my 
strong beer already ? ” 

So at it they went, Tom laying such huge blows at the 
giant, down whose face sweat and blood ran together, so 
that, being fat and foggy and tired with the long fighting, 
he asked Tom would he let him drink a little? “Nay, 
nay,” said Tom, “my mother did not teach me such wit; 
who’d be a fool then ? ” and seeing the giant beginning to 
weary and fail in his blows, Tom thought best to make hay 
whilst the sun shone, and, laying on as fast as though he had 
been mad, he brought the giant to the ground. In vain were 
the giant’s roars and prayers and promises to yield himself 
and be Tom’s servant. Tom laid at him till he was dead, 
and then, cutting off his head, he went into the cave, and 
found a great store of silver and gold, which made his 
heart to leap. So he loaded his cart, and after delivering 
his beer at Wisbeach he came home and told his master 
340 


what had befallen him. And on the morrow he and his 
master and more of the townsfolk of Lynn set out for the 
giant’s cave. Tom showed them the head, and what silver 
and gold there was in the cave, and not a man but leapt 
for joy, for the giant was a great enemy to all the coun- 
try. 

The news was spread all up and down the country-side 
how Tom Hickathrift had killed the giant. And well was 
he that could run to see the cave; all the folk made bon- 
fires for joj% and if Tom was respected before, he was 
much more so now. With common consent he took pos- 
session of the cave and every one said, had it been twice 
as much, he would have deserved it. So Tom pulled down 
the cave and built himself a brave house. The ground that 
the giant kept by force for himself Tom gave part to the 
poor for their common land, and part he turned into good 
wheat-land to keep himself and his old mother, Jane 
Hickathrift. And now he was become the chiefest man in 
the country-side; ’twas no longer plain Tom, but Mr. 
Hickathrift, and he was held in due respect I promise you. 
He kept men and maids and lived most bravely ; made him 
a park to keep deer, and time passed with him happily in 
his great house till the end of his days. 


A SON OF ADAM 

A man was one day working. It was very hot, and he was 
digging. By-and-by he stopped to rest and wipe his face; 
and he was angry to think he had to work so hard only 
because of Adam’s sin. So he complained bitterly, and 
said some very hard words about Adam. 

It happened that his master heard him, and he asked, 

341 


“ Why do you blame Adam? You’d ha’ done just like 
Adam, if you’d a-been in his place.” 

“ No, I shouldn’t,” said the man; “ I should have known 
better.” 

“ Well, I’ll try you,” says his master; “come to me at 
dinner-time.” 

So come dinner-time, the man came, and the master 
took him into a room where the table was a-set with good 
things of all sorts. And he said, “Now, you can eat as 
much as you like from any of the dishes on the table; but 
don’t touch the covered dish in the middle till I come back.” 
And with that the master -went out of the room and left 
the man there all by himself. 

So the man sat down and helped himself, and eat some 
of this dish and some of that, and enjoyed himself finely. 
But after awdiile, as his master didn’t come back, he began 
to look at the covered dish, and to wonder whatever was in 
it. And he wondered more and more, and he says to him- 
self, “ It must be something very nice. Why shouldn’t I 
just look at it. There can’t be any harm in peeping.” 
So at last he could hold back no longer, and he lifted up 
the cover a tiny bit; but he couldn’t see anything. Then 
he lifted it up a bit more, and out popped a mouse. The 
man tried to catch it; but it ran away and jumped off the 
table and he ran after it. It ran first into one corner, and 
then, just as he thought he’d got it, into another, and under 
the table, and all about the room. And the man made such 
a clatter, jumping and banging and running round after 
the mouse, a-trying to catch it, that at last his master 
came in. 

“Ah!” he said; “never you blame Adam again, my 
man ! ” 


342 


THE BURIED MOON 


Long ago, in my grandmother’s time, the Carland was 
all in bogs, great pools of black water, and creeping 
trickles of green water, and squishy mools which squirted 
w T hen you stepped on them. 

Well, granny used to say how long before her time the 
Moon herself was once dead and buried in the marshes, 
and she used to tell me, I’ll tell you all about it. 

The Moon up yonder shone and shone, just as she does 
now, and when she shone she lighted up the bog-pools, 
so that one could walk about almost as safe as in the day. 

But when she didn’t shine, out came the Things that 
dwelt in the darkness and went about seeking to do evil 
and harm; Bogles and Crawling Horrors, all came out 
when the Moon didn’t shine. 

Well, the Moon heard of this, and being kind and good 
— as she surely is, shining for us in the night instead of 
taking her natural rest — she was main troubled. “ I’ll 
see for myself, I will,” said she, “ maybe it’s not so bad 
as folks make out.” 

Sure enough, at the month’s end down she stepped, 
wrapped up in a black cloak, and a black hood over her 
yellow shining hair. Straight she went to the bog edge 
and looked about her. Water here and water there; wav- 
ing tussocks and trembling mools, and great black snags 
all twisted and bent. Before her all was dark — dark but 
for the glimmer of the stars in the pools, and the light 
that came from her own white feet, stealing out of her 
black cloak. 

The Moon drew her cloak faster about and trembled, but 
she wouldn’t go back with seeing all there was to be seen; 
343 


so on she went, stepping as light as the wind in summer 
from tuft to tuft between the greedy gurgling water holes. 
Just as she came near a big black pool her foot slipped and 
she was nigh tumbling in. She grabbed with both hands 
at a snag near by to steady herself with, but as she touched 
it, it twined itself round her wrists, like a pair of hand- 
cuffs, and gripped so that she couldn’t move. She pulled 
and twisted and fought, but it was no good. She was fast, 
and must stay fast. 

Presently, as she stood trembling in the dark, wonder- 
ing if help would come, she heard something calling in 
the distance, calling, calling, and dying away with a sob, 
till the marshes were full of this pitiful crying aloud ; then 
she heard steps floundering along, squishing in the mud 
and slipping on the tufts, and through the darkness she 
saw a white face with great feared eyes. 

“’Twas a man strayed in the bogs. Mazed with fear 
he struggled on toward the flickering light that looked like 
help and safety. And when the poor Moon saw that he 
was coming nigher and nigher to the deep hole, further 
and further from the path, she was so mad and so sorry 
that she struggled and fought and pulled harder than ever. 
And though she couldn’t get loose, she twisted and turned, 
till her black hood fell off her shining yellow hair, and the 
beautiful light that came from it drove away the darkness. 

Oh, but the man cried with joy to see the light again. 
And at once all evil things fled back into the dark corners, 
for they cannot abide the light. So he could see where he 
was, and where the path was, and how he could get out 
of the marsh. And he was in such haste to get away from 
the Quicks, and Bogles, and Things that dwelt there, that 
he scarce looked at the brave light that came from the 
beautiful shining hair, streaming out over the black cloak 
and falling to the water at his feet. And the Moon herself 
was so taken up with saving him, and with rejoicing that 
344 


he was back on the right path, that she clean forgot that 
she needed help herself, and that she was held fast by the 
Black Snag. 

So off he went; spent and gasping, and stumbling and 
sobbing with joy, flying for his life out of the terrible bogs. 
Then it came over the Moon, she would main like to go 
with him. So she pulled and fought as if she were mad, 
till she fell on her knees, spent with tugging, at the foot of 
the snag. And as she lay there, gasping for breath, the 
black hood fell forward over her head. So out went the 
blessed light and back came the darkness, with all its 
Evil Things, with a screech and a howl. They came 
crowding around her, mocking and snatching and beating; 
shrieking with rage and spite, and swearing and snarling, 
for they knew her for their old enemy, that drove them 
back into the corners, and kept them from working their 
wicked wills. 

“ Drat thee ! 99 yelled the witch-bodies ; “ thou’st spoiled 
our spells this year agone ! ” 

“ And thou sent’st us to brood in the corners ! ” howled 
the Bogles. 

And all the Things joined in with a great “ Ho, ho ! ” 
till the very tussocks shook and the water gurgled. And 
they began again. 

“ We’ll poison her — poison her ! 99 shrieked the witches. 

And “ Ho, ho ! ” howled the Things again. 

“ We’ll smother her — smother her ! ” whispered the 
Crawling Horrors, and twined themselves round her knees. 

And “ Ho, ho ! ” mocked the rest of them. 

And again they all shouted with spite and ill-will. And 
the poor Moon crouched down, and wished she was dead 
and done with. 

And they fought and squabbled what they should do with 
her, till a pale grey light began to come in the sky; and 
it drew nigh the dawning. And when they saw that, they 
345 


were feared lest they shouldn’t have time to work their will ; 
and they caught hold of her, with horrid bony fingers, 
and laid her deep in the water at the foot of the snag. 
And the Bogles fetched a strange big stone and rolled it 
on top of her, to keep her from rising. And they told 
two of the Will-o-the-wykes to take turns in watching on 
the black snag, to see that she lay safe and still, and 
couldn’t get out to spoil their sport. 

And there lay the poor Moon, dead and buried in the 
bog, till some one would set her loose; and who’d know 
where to look for her. 

Well, the days passed, and ’twas time for the new moon’s 
coming, and the folk put pennies in their pockets and straws 
in their caps so as to be ready for her, and looked about, 
for the Moon was a good friend to the marsh folk, and 
they were main glad when the dark time was gone, and 
the paths were safe again, and the Evil Things were driven 
back by the blessed Light into the darkness and the water- 
holes. 

But days and days passed, and the new Moon never came, 
and the nights were aye dark, and the Evil Things were 
w r orse than ever. And still the days went on, and the new 
Moon never came. Naturally the poor folk were strangely 
feared and mazed, and a lot of them went to the Wise 
Woman who dwelt in the old mill, and asked if so be she 
could find out where the Moon was gone. 

“Well,” said she, after looking in the brewpot, and in 
the mirror, and in the Book, “ it be main queer, but I 
can’t rightly tell ye wfyat’s happened to her. If ye hear of 
aught, come and tell me.” 

So they went their ways; and as days went by, and never 
a Moon came, naturally they talked — my word ! I reckon 
they DID talk ! their tongues wagged at home, and at the 
inn, and in the garth. But so came one day, as they sat 
on the great settle in the Inn, a man from the far end of 
346 


the bog lands was smoking and listening, when all at once 
he sat up and slapped his knee. “ My f aicks ! ” says he, 
“ I’d clean forgot, but I reckon I kens where the Moon 
be ! ” and he told them of how he was lost in the bogs, and 
how, when he was nigh dead with fright, the light shone 
out, and he found the path and got home safe. 

So off they all went to the Wise Woman, and told her 
about it, and she looked long in the pot and the Book 
again, and then she nodded her head. 

“ It’s dark still, childer, dark ! ” says she ; “ and I can’t 
rightly see, but do as I tell ye, and ye’ll find out for your- 
selves. Go all of ye, just afore the night gathers, put a 
stone in your mouth, and take a hazel-twig in your hands, 
and say never a word till you’re safe home again. Then 
walk on and fear not, far into the midst of the marsh, till 
ye find a coffin, a candle, and a cross. Then ye’ll not be 
far from your Moon; look, and m’appen ye’ll find her.” 

So came the next night in the darklings, out they went 
all together, every man with a stone in his mouth, and a 
hazel-twig in his hand, and feeling, thou may’st reckon, 
main feared and creepy. And they stumbled and tottered 
along the paths into the midst of the bogs ; they saw nought, 
though they heard sighings and flutterings in their ears, 
and felt cold wet fingers touching them; but all at once, 
looking around for the coffin, the candle, and the cross, 
while they came nigh to the pool beside the great snag, 
where the Moon lay buried. And all at once they stopped, 
quaking and mazed and skeery, for there was the great 
stone, half in, half out of the water, for all the w r orld like 
a strange big coffin; and at the head was the black snag 
stretching out its two arms in a dark gruesome cross, and 
on it a tiddy light flickered, like a dying candle. And they 
all knelt down in the mud, and said, “ Our Lord, first for- 
ward, because of the cross, and then backward, to keep off 
the Bogles; but without speaking out, for they knew that 
347 . 


the Evil Things would catch them, if they didn’t do as the 
Wise Woman told them. 

Then they went nigher, and took hold of the big stone, 
and shoved it up, and afterwards they said that for one 
tiddy moment they saw a strange and beautiful face look- 
ing up at them glad-like out of the black water; but the 
light came so quick and so white and shining, that they 
stepped back mazed with it, and the very next minute, 
when they could see again, there was the full Moon in the 
sky, bright and beautiful and kind as ever, shining and 
smiling down at them, and making the bogs and the paths 
as clear as day, and stealing into the very corners, as 
though she’d have driven the darkness and the Bogles clean 
away if she could. 


THE WONDERFUL SHEEP 

Once upon a time — in the days when the fairies lived — 
there was a king who had three daughters, who were all 
young, and clever, and beautiful; but the youngest of the 
three, who was called Miranda, was the prettiest and the 
most beloved. 

The king, her father, gave her more dresses and jewels 
in a month than he gave the others in a year ; but she was 
so generous that she shared everything with her sisters, 
and they were all as happy and as fond of one another as 
they could be. 

Now, the king had some quarrelsome neighbours who, 
tired of leaving him in peace, began to make war upon 
him so fiercely that he feared he would be altogether 
beaten if he did not make an effort to defend himself. So 
he collected a great army and set off to fight them, leaving 
the princesses with their governess in a castle where news 
348 


of the war was brought ever}' da}' — sometimes that the 
king had taken a town or won a battle, and at last that 
he had altogether overcome his enemies and chased them 
out of his kingdom, and was coming back to the castle as 
quickly as possible, to see his dear little Miranda, whom he 
loved so much. 

The three princesses put on dresses of satin, which they 
had had made on purpose for this great occasion, one 
green, one blue, and the third white; their jewels were the 
same colours. The eldest wore emerald, the second tur- 
quoises, and the youngest diamonds, and thus adorned 
they went to meet the king, singing verses which they 
had composed about his victories. 

When he saw them all so beautiful and so gay he em- 
braced them tenderly, but gave Miranda more kisses than 
either of the others. 

Presently a splendid banquet was served, and the king 
and his daughters sat down to it, and as he always thought 
that there was some special meaning in everything he said 
to the eldest: 

“ Tell me why you have chosen a green dress.” 

“ Sire,” she answered, “ having heard of your victories, 
I thought that green would signify my joy and the hope of 
your speedy return.” 

“ That is a very good answer,” said the king ; “ and you, 
my daughter,” he continued, “why did you take a blue 
dress ? ” 

“ Sire,” said the princess, “ to show that we constantly 
hoped for your success, and that the sight of you is as wel- 
come to me as the sky with its most beautiful stars.” 

“ Why,” said the king, “ your wise answers astonish me. 
And you, Miranda: what made you dress yourself all in 
white ? ” 

“ Because, sire,” she answered, “ white suits me better 
than anything else.” 


349 


“ What ! ” said the king angrily, “ was that all you 
thought of, vain child?” 

“I thought you would be pleased with me,” said the 
princess ; “ that was all.” 

The king, who loved her, was satisfied with this, and 
even pretended to be pleased that she had not told him 
all her reasons at first. 

“ And now,” said he, “ as I have supped well and it is 
not time yet to go to bed, tell me what you dreamed last 
night.” 

The eldest said she had dreamed that he brought her a 
dress, and the precious stones and gold embroidery on it 
were brighter than the sun. 

The dream of the second was that the king had brought 
her a spinning-wheel and a distaff, that she might spin 
him some shirts. 

But the youngest said : “ I dreamed that my second 

sister was to be married, and on her wedding-day, you, 
father, held a golden ewer and said : ‘ Come, Miranda, and 
I will hold the water that you may dip your hands in it/ ” 

The king was very angry indeed when he heard this 
dream, and frowned horribly; indeed, he made such an 
ugly face that every one knew how angry he was, and he 
got up and went off to bed in a great hurry; but he could 
not forget his daughter’s dream. “Does the proud girl 
wish to make me her slave ? ” he said to himself. “ I am 
not surprised at her choosing to dress herself in white 
satin without a thought of me. She does not think me 
worthy of her consideration ! But I will soon put an end 
to her pretensions ! ” 

He rose in a fury, and although it was not yet daylight, 
he sent for the captain of his body-guard and said to him : 

“You have heard the Princess Miranda’s dream? I 
consider that it means strange things against me, there- 
fore I order you to take her away into the forest and kill 
350 


her, and that I may be sure it is done, you must bring me 
her heart and her tongue. If you attempt to deceive me 
you shall be put to death ! ” 

The captain of the guard was very much astonished 
when he heard this barbarous order, but he did not dare 
to contradict the king for fear of making him still more 
angry or causing him to send some one else, so he answered 
that he would fetch the princess and do as the king had 
said. When he went to her room they would hardly let 
him in, it was still so early, but he said that the king had 
sent for Miranda, and she got up quickly and came out; a 
little black girl called Patypata held up her train, and her 
pet monkey and her little dog ran after her. The monkey 
was called Grabugeon and the little dog Tintin. 

The captain of the guard begged Miranda to come down 
into the garden, where the king was enjoying the fresh 
air, and when they got there he pretended to search for 
him, but as he was not to be found he said : 

“No doubt his Majesty has strolled into the forest,” 
and he opened the little door that led to it and they went 
through. 

By this time the daylight had begun to appear, and the 
princess, looking at her conductor, saw that he had tears 
in his eyes and seemed too sad to speak. 

“What is the matter?” she said in the kindest way. 
“You seem very sorrowful.” 

“ Alas ! princess,” he answered, “ who would not be sor- 
rowful who was ordered to do such a terrible thing as I 
am? The king has ordered me to kill you here and carry 
your heart and your tongue to him, and if I disobey I 
shall lose my life.” 

The poor princess was terrified, she grew very pale and 
began to cry softly. 

Looking up at the captain of the guard with her beauti- 
ful eyes, she said gently : 


351 


" Will you really have the heart to kill me? I have 
never done you any harm and have always spoken well of 
you to the king. If I had deserved my father’s anger I 
would suffer without a murmur, but, alas! he is unjust 
to complain of me, when I have always treated him with 
love and respect.” 

“ Fear nothing, princess,” said the captain of the guard. 
u I would far rather die myself than hurt you ; but even 
if I am killed you are not safe; we must find some way 
of making the king believe that you are dead.” 

“ What can we do ? ” said Miranda ; “ unless you take him 
my heart and my tongue he will never believe you.” 

The princess and the captain of the guard were talking 
so earnestly that they did not think of Patypata, but she 
had overheard all they said, and now came and threw her- 
self at Miranda’s feet. 

“ Madam,” she said, “ I offer you my life ; let me be 
killed. I shall be only too happy to die for such a kind 
mistress.” 

“ Why, Patypata,” cried the princess, kissing her, “ that 
would never do; your life is as precious to me as my own, 
especially after such a proof of your affection as you have 
just given me.” 

“ You are right, princess,” said Grabugeon, coming for- 
ward, "to love such a faithful slave as Patypata; she is 
of more use to you than I am. I offer you my tongue and 
my heart most willingly, especially as I wish to make a 
great name for myself in Goblin Land.” 

“ No, no, my little Grabugeon,” replied Miranda ; “ I 
cannot bear the thought of taking your life.” 

“ Such a good little dog as I am,” cried Tintin, “ could 
not think of letting either of you die for his mistress. If 
any one is to die for her it must be me.” 

And then began a great dispute between Patypata, 
Grabugeon, and Tintin, and they came to high words, 
352 


until at last Grabugeon, who was quicker than the others, 
ran up to the very top of the nearest tree and let herself 
fall, head first, to the ground, and there she lay — quite 
dead! 

The princess was very sorry, but as Grabugeon was 
really dead, she allowed the captain of the guard to take 
her tongue ; but, alas ! it was such a little one — not big- 
ger than the princess’ thumb — that they decided sorrow- 
fully that it was no use at all: the king would not have 
been taken in by it for a moment ! 

“Alas! my little monkey,” cried the princess, “I have 
lost you, and yet I am no better off than I was before.” 

“ The honour of saving your life is to be mine,” inter- 
rupted Patypata, and before they could prevent her she 
had picked up a knife and cut her head off in an instant. 

But when the captain of the guard would have taken her 
tongue it turned out to be quite black, so that would not 
have deceived the king either. 

“Am I not unlucky?” cried the poor princess. “I 
lose every thing I love and am none the better for it.” 

“If you had accepted my offer,” said Tintin, “you 
would only have had me to regret, and I should have had 
all your gratitude.” 

Miranda kissed her little dog, crying so bitterly that at 
last she could bear it no longer, and turned away into the 
forest. When she looked back the captain of the guard 
was gone, and she was alone, except for Patypata, Grabu- 
geon, and Tintin, who lay upon the ground. She could 
not leave the place until she had buried them in a pretty 
little mossy grave at the foot of a tree, and she wrote their 
names upon the bark of the tree, and how they had all 
died to save her life. And then she began to think 
where she could go for safety — for this forest was so close 
to her father’s castle that she might be seen and recog- 
nised by the first passer-by, and besides that, it was full 
353 


of lions and wolves, who would have snapped up a prin- 
cess just as soon as a stray chicken. So she began to walk 
as fast as she could, hut the forest was so large and the 
sun was so hot that she nearly died of heat and terror 
and fatigue. Look which way she would there seemed 
to be no end to the forest, and she was so frightened that 
she fancied every minute that she heard the king running 
after her to kill her. You may imagine how miserable 
she was, and how she cried as she went on, not knowing 
which path to follow, and with the thorny bushes scratch- 
ing her dreadfully and tearing her pretty frock to pieces. 

At last she heard the bleating of a sheep, and said to 
herself : 

“Yo doubt there are shepherds here with their flocks; 
they will show me the way to the village whefre I can live 
disguised as a peasant-girl. Alas! it is not always kings 
and princes who are happiest people in the world. Who 
could have believed that I should ever be obliged to run 
away and hide because the king, for no reason at all, 
wishes to kill me?” 

So saying she advanced toward the place where she 
heard the bleating, but what was her surprise when, in a 
lovely little glade quite surrounded by trees, she saw a 
large sheep; its wool was as white as snow and its horns 
shone like gold; it had a garland of flowers round its 
neck and strings of great pearls about its legs, and a collar 
of diamonds; it lay upon a bank of orange-flowers, under 
a canopy of cloth-of-gold which protected it from the 
heat of the sun. Yearly a hundred other sheep were scat- 
tered about, not eating the grass, but some drinking cof- 
fee, lemonade, or sherbet, others eating ices, strawberries 
and cream, or sweetmeats, while others, again, were play- 
ing games. Many of them wore golden collars with 
jewels, flowers, and ribbons. 

Miranda stopped short in amazement at this unexpected 
354 



“And besides that, it was full of lions and wolves” 



















sight, and was looking in all directions for the shepherd 
of this surprising flock, when the beautiful sheep came 
bounding toward her. 

“ Approach, lovely princess/’ he cried; “have no fear 
of such gentle and peaceable animals as we are.” 

“What a marvel!” cried the princess, starting back a 
little. “ Here is a sheep who can talk.” 

“ Your monkey and your dog could talk, madam,” said 
he. “ Are you more astonished at us than at them ? ” 

“A fairy gave them the power to speak,” replied 
Miranda, “so I was used to them,” 

“ Perhaps the same thing has happened to us,” he said, 
smiling sheepishly, “But, princess, what can have led 
you here?” 

“A thousand misfortunes, Sir Sheep,” she answered. 
“I am the unhappiest princess in the world, and I am 
seeking a shelter against my father’s anger.” 

“ Come with me, madam,” said the sheep. “ I offer 
you a hiding-place which you only will know of and where 
you will be mistress of everything you see.” 

“ I really cannot follow you,” 6aid Miranda, “ for I am 
too tired to walk another step.” 

The sheep with the golden horns ordered that his 
chariot should be fetched, and a moment after appeared 
six goats, harnessed to a pumpkin, which was so big that 
two people could quite well sit in it, and was all lined 
with cushions of velvet and down. The princess stepped 
into it, much amused at such a new kind of carriage, the 
king of the sheep took his place beside her, and the goats 
ran away with them at full speed, and only stopped when 
they reached a cavern, the entrance to which was blocked 
by a great 6tone. This the king touched with his foot, 
and immediately it fell down, and he invited the princess 
to enter without fear. How, if she had not been so 
alarmed by everything that had happened, nothing could 
355 


have induced her to go into this frightful cave, but she 
was so afraid of what might be behind her that she would 
have thrown herself even down a wall at this moment. 
So, without hesitation, she followed the sheep, who went 
before her, down, down, down, until she thought they 
must come out at the other side of the world — indeed, 
she was not sure that he wasn’t leading her into Fairy- 
land. At last she saw before her a great plain, quite cov- 
ered with all sorts of flowers, the scent of which seemed 
to her nicer than anything she had ever smelled before; 
a broad river of orange-flower water flowed round it, and 
fountains of wine of every kind ran in all directions and 
made the prettiest little cascades and brooks. The plain 
was covered with the strangest trees; there were whole 
avenues where partridges, ready roasted, hung from every 
branch, or, if you preferred pheasants, quails, turkeys, or 
rabbits, you had only to turn to the right hand or to the 
left and you were sure to find them. In places the air 
was darkened by showers of lobster-patties, white pud- 
dings, sausages, tarts, and all sorts of sweetmeats, or with 
pieces of gold and silver, diamonds and pearls. This un- 
usual kind of rain and the pleasantness of the whole place 
would no doubt have attracted numbers of people to it if 
the king of the sheep had been of a more sociable disposi- 
tion, but from all accounts it is evident that he was as 
grave as a judge. 

As it was quite the nicest time of the year when Miranda 
arrived in this delightful land, the only palace she saw 
was a long row of orange-trees, jasmines, honeysuckles 
and musk-roses, and their interlacing branches made 
the prettiest rooms possible, which were hung with gold 
and silver gauze, and had great mirrors and candle- 
sticks and most beautiful pictures. The wonderful sheep 
begged that the princess would consider herself queen over 
all that she saw, and assured her that though for some 
356 


years he had been very sad and in great trouble, she had 
it in her power to make him forget all his grief. 

“You are so kind and generous, noble sheep,” said the 
princess, “ that I cannot thank you enough, but I must 
confess that all I see here seems to me so extraordinary 
that I don’t know what to think of it.” 

As she spoke a band of lovely fairies came up and 
offered her amber baskets full of fruit, but when she held 
out her hands to them they glided away, and she could 
feel nothing when she tried to touch them. 

“ Oh ! ” she cried, “ what can they be ? Whom am I 
with ? ” And she began to cry. 

At this instant the king of the sheep came back to her, 
and was so distracted to find her in tears that he could 
have torn his wool. 

“What is the matter, lovely princess?” he cried. 
“ Has any one failed to treat you with due respect ? ” 

“ Oh ! no,” said Miranda ; “ only I am not used to liv- 
ing with sprites and with sheep that talk, and everything 
here frightens me. It was very kind of you to bring me 
to this place, but I shall be even more grateful to you if 
you will take me up into the world again.” 

“ Do not be afraid,” said the wonderful sheep ; “ I en- 
treat you to have patience and listen to the story of my 
misfortunes. I was once a king, and my kingdom was 
the most splendid in the world. My subjects loved me, 
my neighbours envied and feared me. I was respected by 
every one, and it was said that no king ever deserved it 
more. 

“ I was very fond of hunting, and one day, while chas- 
ing a stag, I left my attendants far behind; suddenly I 
saw the animal leap into a pool of water, and I rashly 
urged my horse to follow it, but before we had gone many 
steps I felt an extraordinary heat, instead of the coolness 
of the water; the pond dried up, a great gulf opened be- 
357 


fore me, out of which flames of fire shot up, and I fell 
helplessly to the bottom of a precipice. 

“ I gave myself up for lost, but presently a voice said : 
‘ Ungrateful prince, even this fire is hardly enough to 
warm your cold heart ! ’ 

“ ‘ Who complains of my coldness in this dismal place ? ’ 
I cried. 

“An unhappy being who loves you hopelessly,” replied 
the voice, and at the same moment the flames began to 
flicker and cease to burn, and I saw a fairy, w T hom I had 
known as long as I could remember, and whose ugliness 
had always horrified me. She was leaning upon the arm 
of a most beautiful young girl, who wore chains of gold 
on her wrists and was evidently her slave. 

“ ‘ Why, Ragotte/ I said, for that was the fairy’s name, 
‘what is the meaning of all this? Is it by your orders 
that I am here?’ 

“ ‘ And whose fault is it/ she answered, c that you have 
never understood me until now? Must a powerful fairy 
like myself condescend to explain her doings to you who 
are no better than an ant by comparison, though you think 
yourself a great king ? 9 

“ * Call me what you like/ I said impatiently; * but what 
is it that you want— ■ my crown, or my cities, or my 
treasures ? 9 

“ ‘ Treasures ! * said the fairy disdainfully. ‘ If I 
choose I could make any one of my scullions richer and 
more powerful than you. I do not want your treasures, 
but/ she added softly, ‘ if you will give me your heart — 
if you will marry me — I will add twenty kingdoms to 
the one you have already ; you shall have a hundred castles 
full of gold and five hundred full of silver, and, in short, 
anything you like to ask me for.’ 

“ ‘ Madam Ragotte/ said I, ‘ when one is at the bottom 
of a pit where one has fully expected to be roasted alive, 
358 


it is impossible to think of asking such a charming per- 
son as you are to marry one! I beg that you will set 
me at liberty, and then I shall hope to answer you fit- 
tingly/ 

“ c Ah ! ? said she, c if you loved me really you would not 
care where you were — a cave, a wood, a fox-hole, a desert 
would please you equally well. Do not think that you 
can deceive me; you fancy you are going to escape, but I 
assure you that you are going to stay here, and the first 
thing I shall give you to do will be to keep my sheep — 
they are very good company and speak quite as well as you 
do/ 

“As she spoke she advanced and led me to this plain 
where we now stand, and showed me her flock, but I paid 
little attention to it or to her; to tell the truth, I was so 
lost in admiration of her beautiful slave that I forgot 
everything else, and the cruel Eagotte, perceiving this, 
turned upon her so furious and terrible a look that she 
fell lifeless to the ground. 

“ At this dreadful sight I drew my sword and rushed at 
Eagotte, and should certainly have cut off her head had 
she not by her magic arts chained me to the spot on 
which I stood; all my efforts to move were useless, and at 
last, when I threw myself down on the ground in despair, 
she said to me, with a scornful smile : 

“ ‘ I intend to make you feel my pov^er. It seems that 
you are a lion at present. I mean you to be a sheep/ 

“ So saying, she touched me with her wand and I be- 
came what you see. I did not lose the power of speech 
or of feeling the misery of my present state. 

“‘For five years/ she said, ‘you shall be a sheep and 
lord of this pleasant land, while I, no longer able to see 
your face, which I loved so much, shall be better able to 
hate you as you deserve to be hated/ 

“ She disappeared as she finished speaking, and if I had 
359 


not been too happy to care about anything 1 should have 
been glad that she was gone. 

“The talking sheep received me as their king and told 
me that they, too, were unfortunate princes who had, in 
different ways, offended the revengeful fairy and had been 
added to her flock for a certain number of years; some 
more, some less. From time to time, indeed, one regains 
his own proper form and goes back again to his place in 
the upper world; but the other beings whom you saw are 
the rivals or the enemies of Ragotte, whom she has impris- 
oned for a hundred years or so; though even they will go 
back at last. The young slave of whom I told you is one 
of these; I have seen her often, and it has been a great 
pleasure to me. She never speaks to me, and if I went 
nearer to her I know I should find her only a shadow, 
which would be very annoying. However, I noticed that 
one of my companions in misfortune was also very atten- 
tive to this little sprite, and I found out that he has been 
her lover, whom the cruel Ragotte has taken away from 
her long before; since then I have cared for and thought 
of nothing but how I might regain my freedom. I have 
often been into the forest; that is where I have seen you, 
lovely princess, sometimes driving your chariot, which you 
did with all the grace and skill in the world; sometimes 
riding to the chase on so spirited a horse that it seemed 
as if no one but yourself could have managed it, and 
sometimes running races on the plain with the princesses 
of your court — running so lightly that it was you always 
who won the prize. Oh! princess, I have loved you so 
long, and yet how dare I tell you of my love — what hope 
can there be for an unhappy sheep like myself?” 

Miranda was so surprised and confused by all that she 
had heard that she hardly knew what answer to give to 
the king of the sheep, but she managed to make some kind 
of little speech, which certainly did not forbid him to 
360 


hope, and said that she should not be afraid of the 
shadows now she knew that they would some day come to 
life again. “ Alas ! ” she continued, “ if my poor Paty- 
pata, my dear Grabugeon, and pretty little Tintin, who 
all died for my sake, were equally well off, I should have 
nothing else to wish for here ! ” 

Prisoner though he was, the king of the sheep had still 
some powers and privileges. 

“ Go,” said he to his master of the horse, “ go and seek 
the shadows of the little black girl, the monkey, and the 
dog: they will amuse our princess.” 

And an instant afterward Miranda saw them coming 
toward her, and their presence gave her the greatest 
pleasure, though they did not come near enough for her 
to touch them. 

The king of the sheep was so kind and amusing and 
loved Miranda so dearly that at last she began to love 
him too. Such a handsome sheep, who was so polite and 
considerate, could hardly fail to please, especially if one 
knew that he was really a king and that his strange im- 
prisonment would soon come to an end. So the princess’ 
days passed very gaily while she waited for the happy 
time to come. The king of the sheep, with the help of 
all the flock, got up balls, concerts, and hunting parties, 
and even the shadows joined in all the fun, and came, 
making believe to be their own real selves. 

One evening, when the couriers arrived (for the king 
sent most carefully for news — and they always brought 
the very best kinds), it was announced that the sister of 
the Princess Miranda was going to be married to a great 
prince, and that nothing could be more splendid than all 
the preparations for the wedding. 

“ Ah ! ” cried the young princess, “ how unlucky I am 
to miss the sight of so many pretty things! Here am I 
prisoned under the earth, with no company but sheep and 
361 


shadows, while my sister is to be adorned like a queen and 
surrounded by all who love and admire her, and every one 
but myself can go to wish her joy! ” 

“ Why do you complain, princess ? ” said the king of the 
sheep. “Did I say that you were not to go to the wed- 
ding? Set out as soon as you please; only promise me 
that you will come back, for I love you too much to be 
able to live without you.” 

Miranda was very grateful to him, and promised faith- 
fully that nothing in the world should keep her from com- 
ing back. The king caused an escort suitable to her rank 
to be got ready for her, and she dressed herself splendidly, 
not forgetting anything that could make her more beauti- 
ful. Her chariot was of mother-of-pearl, drawn by six 
dun-coloured griffins just brought from the other side of 
the world, and she was attended by a number of guards 
in splendid uniforms who were all at least eight feet high 
and had come from far and near to ride in the princess’ 
train. 

Miranda reached her father’s palace just as the wed- 
ding ceremony began, and every one as soon as she came 
in was struck with surprise at . her beauty and the splen- 
dour of her jewels. She heard exclamations of admira- 
tion on all sides, and the king her father looked at her so 
intently that she was afraid he must recognise her; but 
he was so sure that 6he was dead that the idea never oc- 
curred to him. 

However, the fear of not getting away made her leave 
before the marriage was over. She went out hastily, 
leaving behind her a little coral casket set with emeralds. 
On it was written in diamond letters, “Jewels for the 
Bride,” and when they opened it, which they did as soon 
as it was found, there seemed to be no end to the pretty 
things it contained. The king, who had hoped to join 
the unknown princess and find out who she was, was 
362 


dreadfully disappointed when she disappeared so suddenly, 
and gave orders that if she ever came back again the doors 
were to be shut that she might not get away so easily. 
Short as Miranda’s absence had been, it had seemed like 
a hundred years to the king of the sheep. He was wait- 
ing for her by a fountain in the thickest part of the forest, 
and the ground was strewn with splendid presents which 
he had prepared for her to show his joy and gratitude at 
her coming back. 

As soon as she was in sight he rushed to meet her, leap- 
ing and bounding like a real sheep. He caressed her 
tenderly, throwing himself at her feet and kissing her 
hands, and told her how uneasy he had been in her ab- 
sence, and how impatient for her return, with an elo- 
quence which charmed her. 

After some time came the news that the king’s second 
daughter w r as going to be married. When Miranda heard 
it she begged the king of the sheep to allow her to go and 
see the wedding as before. This request made him feel 
very sad, as if some misfortune must surely come of it, 
but his love for the princess being stronger than anything 
else he did not like to refuse her. 

“You wish to leave me, princess,” said he; “it is my 
unhappy fate — you are not to blame. I consent to your 
going, but believe me, I can give you no stronger proof of 
my love than by so doing.” 

The princess assured him that she would only stay a 
very short time, as she had done before, and begged him 
not to be uneasy, as she would be quite as much grieved 
if anything detained her as he could possibly be. 

So with the same escort she set out, and reached the 
palace as the marriage ceremony began. Everybody was 
delighted to see her; she was so pretty that they thought 
she must be some fairy princess, and the princes who were 
there could not take their eyes off her. 

363 


The king was more glad than any one else that she had 
come again, and gave orders that the doors should all be 
shut and bolted that very minute. When the wedding 
was all but over the princess got up quickly, hoping to 
slip away unnoticed among the crowd, but to her great dis- 
may she found every door fastened. 

She felt more at ease when the king came up to her 
and with the greatest respect begged her not to run away 
so soon, but at least to honour him by staying for the 
splendid feast which was prepared for the princes and 
princesses. He led her into a magnificent hall, where all 
the court was assembled, and himself taking up the 
golden bowl full of water, he offered it to her that she 
might dip her pretty fingers into it. 

At this the princess could no longer contain herself; 
throwing herself at the king’s feet she cried out: 

“ My dream has come true, after all — you have offered 
me water to wash my hands on my sister’s wedding-day 
and it has not vexed you to do it.” 

The king recognised her at once — indeed he had al- 
ready thought several times how much like his poor little 
Miranda she was. 

“ Oh ! my dear daughter,” he cried, kissing her, “ can you 
ever forgive my cruelty ? I ordered you to be put to death 
because I thought your dream portended the loss of my 
crown. And so it did,” he added, “for now your sisters 
are both married and have kingdoms of their own — and 
mine shall be for you.” So saying he put his crown on 
the princess’ head and cried: 

“ Long live Queen Miranda ! ” 

All the court cried “ Long live Queen Miranda ! ” after 
him, and the young queen’s two sisters came running up, 
and threw their arms round her neck, and kissing her a 
thousand times, and then there was such a laughing and 
364 


crying, talking and kissing, all at once, and Miranda 
thanked her father and began to ask every one — particu- 
larly the captain of the guard, to whom she owed so much ; 
but to her great sorrow she heard that he was dead. 
Presently they sat down to the banquet, and the king 
asked Miranda to tell them all that had happened to her 
since the terrible morning when he had sent the captain 
of the guard to fetch her. This she did with so much 
spirit that all the guests listened with breathless interest. 
But while she was thus enjoying himself with the king 
and her sisters, the king of the sheep was waiting impa- 
tiently for the time of her return, and when it came and 
went and no princess appeared, his anxiety became so 
great that he could bear it no longer. 

“ She is not coming back any more,” he cried. “ My 
miserable sheep’s face displeases her, and without Miranda 
what is left to me, wretched creature that I am! Oh! 
cruel Eagotte; my punishment is complete.” 

Por a long time he bewailed his sad fate like this, and 
then, seeing that it was growing dark, and that still there 
was no sign of the princess, he set out as fast as he could 
in the direction of the town. When he reached the pal- 
ace he asked for Miranda, but by this time every one had 
heard the story of her adventures, and did not want her 
to go back again to the king of the sheep, so they refused 
sternly to let him see her. In vain he begged and prayed 
them to let him in; though his entreaties might have 
melted hearts of stone they did not move the guards of 
the palace, and at last, quite broken-hearted, he fell dead 
at their feet. 

In the meantime the king, who had not the least idea 
of the sad thing that was happening outside the gate of 
his palace, proposed to Miranda that she should be driven 
in her chariot all round the town, which w r as to be illu- 
minated with thousands and thousands of torches placed 
, 365 


in windows and balconies and in all the grand squares. 
But what a sight met her eyes at the very entrance of the 
palace! There lay her dear, kind sheep, silent and mo- 
tionless upon the pavement! 

She threw herself out of the chariot and ran to him, 
crying bitterly, for she realised that her broken promise 
had cost him his life, and for a long, long time she was 
so unhappy that they thought she would have died too. 

So you see that even a princess is not always happy — 
especially if she forgets to keep her word ; and the greatest 
misfortunes often happen to people just as they think 
they have obtained their heart’s desires! 


A POTTLE O’ BRAINS 

Once in these parts, and not so long gone neither, there 
was a fool that wanted to buy a pottle o’ brains, for he 
was ever getting into scrapes through his foolishness, and 
being laughed at by every one. Folk told him that he 
could get everything he liked from the wise woman that 
lived on top o’ the hill, and dealt in potions and herbs and 
spells and things, and could tell thee all as’d come to thee 
or thy folk. So he told his mother, and asked her if he 
could seek the wise woman and buy a pottle o’ brains. 

<tf That ye should,” says she; “thou’st sore need o’ them, 
my son : and if I should die, who’d take care o’ such a poor 
fool as thou, no more fit to look after thyself than an un- 
born baby ? But mind thy manners, and speak her pretty, 
my lad; for they wise folk are gey and easily nrispleased.” 

So off he went after his tea, and there she was, sitting by 
the fire, and stirring a big pot. 

“ Good e’en, missis,” says he, “ it’s a fine night.” 

“ Ay,” says she, and went on stirring. 

366 


“It’ll maybe rain,” says he and fidgeted from one foot 
to t’other. 

" Maybe,” says she. 

" And m’appen it won’t,” says he, and looked out o’ the 
window. 

" M’appen,” says she. 

And he scratched his head and twisted his hat. 

"Well,” says he, "I can’t mind nothing else about 
the weather, but let me see; the crops are getting on 
fine” 

" Fine,” says she. 

" And — and — the beasts is fattening,” says he. 

" They are,” says 6he. 

"And — and — ■” says he, and comes to a stop — "I 
reckon we’ll tackle business now, having done the polite 
like. Have you any brains for to sell ? ” 

" That depends,” says she, " if thou wants king’s brains, 
or soldier’s brains, or schoolmaster’s brains, I dinna keep 
them.” 

" Hout no,” says he, " jist ordinary brains — fit for any 
fool — same as any one has about here; something clean 
common-like.” 

" Ay so,” says the wise woman, " I might manage that, 
if so be thou’lt help thyself.” 

" How’s that for, missis ? ” says he. 

"Jest so,”. says she, looking in the pot; "bring me the 
heart of the thing thou likest best of all, and I’ll tell thee 
where to get thy pottle o’ brains.” 

"But,” says he, scratching his head, "how can I do 
that?” 

" That’s no for me to say,” says she, " find out for thy- 
self, my lad, if thou doesn’t want to be a fool all thy days. 
But thou’ll have to read me a riddle so as I can see thou’st 
brought me the right thing, and if thy brains is about 
thee. And I’ve something else to see to,” says she, "so 
367 


good e’en to thee,” and she carried the pot away with her 
into the back place. 

So off went the fool to his mother, and told her what 
the wise woman said. 

“ And I reckon I’ll have to kill that pig,” says he, “ for 
I like that fat bacon better than anything.” 

“Then do it, my lad,” says his mother, “for certain 
’twill be a strange and good thing for thee, if thon canst 
buy a pottle o’ brains, and be able to look after thyself.” 

So he killed the pig, and next day off he went to the 
wise woman’s cottage, and there she sat, reading in a 
great hook. 

“ Good e’en, missis,” says he, “ I’ve brought thee the 
heart o’ the thing I like the best of all; and I put it hapt 
in paper on the table.” 

“Ay so?” says she, and looked at him through her 
spectacles. “ Tell me this then, what runs without feet? ” 

He scratched his head, and thought, and thought, but 
he couldn’t tell. 

“Go thy ways,” says she, “thou’st not fetched me the 
right thing yet. I’ve no brains for thee to-day.” And 
she dapped the book together, and turned her back. 

So off the fool went to tell his mother. 

But as he goy nigh the house, out came folk to tell him 
his mother was dying. 

And when he goy in, his mother only looked at him 
and smiled as if to say she could leave him with a quiet 
mind since he had goy brains enough now to look after 
himself — and then she died. 

So down he sat and the more he thought about it the 
badder he felt. He minded how she nursed him when he 
was a tiddy brat, and helped him with his lessons, and 
cooked his dinners, and mended his clouts, and bore with 
his foolishness; and he felt sorrier and. sorrier, while he 
began to sob and greet. 


368 


“ Oh, mother, mother ! ” says he, “ who’ll take care of 
me now ? Thou shouldn’t have left me alone, for I liked 
me better than everything ! ” 

And as he said that, he thought of the words of the wise 
woman. “ Hi, yi ! ” says he, “ must I take mother’s heart 
to her ? ” 

“No! I can’t do that,” says he. “What’ll I do now? 
what’ll I do to get that pottle o’ brains, now I’m alone in 
the world ? ” So he thought and thought and thought, 
and next day he went and borrowed a sack, and bundled 
his mother in, and carried it on his shoulder up to the wise 
woman’s cottage. 

“ Good e’en, missis,” says he, “ I reckon I’ve fetched thee 
the right thing this time, surely,” and he plumped the sack 
down kerflap ! in the doorsill. 

“ Maybe,” says the wise woman, “ hut read me this, now, 
what’s yellow and shining but isn’t gold ? ” 

And he scratched his head, and thought and thought, 
but he couldn’t tell. 

“ Thou’st not hit the right thing yet, my lad,” says she. 
“ I doubt thou’rt a bigger fool than I thought ! ” and shut 
the door in his face. 

“ See there ! ” says he, and set down by the roadside 
and greets. 

“ I’ve lost the only two things I cared for, and what else 
can I find to buy a pottle o’ brains with ! ” and he fair 
howled, till the tears ran down into his mouth. And up 
came a lass that lived near at hand, and looked up at him. 

“What’s up with thee, fool?” says she. 

“ Oo, I’ve killed my pig, and lost my mother and I’m 
nobbut a fool myself,” says he, sobbing. 

“ That’s bad,” says she ; “ and haven’t thee anybody to 
look after thee?” 

“No,” says he, “and I cannot buy my pottle o’ brains, 
for there’s nothing I like best left.” 

369 


“ What art talking about ? ” says she. 

And down she sets by him, and he told her all about the 
wise woman and the pig, and his mother and the riddles, 
and that he was alone in the world. 

“Well,” says she, “I wouldn’t mind looking after thee 
myself.” 

“Could thee do it?” says he. 

“ Ou, ay ! ” says she ; “ folks say as fools make good hus- 
bands, and I reckon Fll have thee, if thou’rt willing.” 

“ Can’st cook ? ” says he. 

“ Ay, I can,” says she. 

“ And scrub ? ” says he. 

“ Surely,” says she. 

“ And mend my clouts ? ” says he. 

“ I can that,” says she. 

“ I reckon thou’lt do as well as anybody,” says he ; “ but 
what’ll I do about this wise woman ? ” 

“ Oh, wait a bit,” says she, “ something may turn up, 
and it’ll not matter if thou’rt a fool, so long’st thou’st goy 
me to look after thee.” 

“ That’s true,” says he, and off they went and got mar- 
ried. And she kept his house so clean and neat, and 
cooked his dinner so fine, that one night he says to her: 
“Lass, I’m thinking I like thee best of everything after 
all.” 

“ That’s good hearing,” says she, “ and what then ? ” 

“ Have I got to kill thee, dost think, and take thy heart 
up to the wise woman for that pottle o’ brains?” 

“ Law, no ! ” says she, looking skeered, “ I winna have 
that. But see here; thou didn’t cut out thy mother’s 
heart, did thou?” 

“No; but if I had, maybe I’d have got my pottle o’ 
brains,” says he. 

“Not a bit of it,” says she ; “ just thou take me as I be, 
heart and all, and I’ll wager I’ll help thee read the riddles.” 

370 


u Can thee so ? says he, doubtful like ; “ i reckon they’re 
too hard for women folk.” 

“ Well,” says she, “ let’s see now. Tell me the first.” 

“ What runs without feet ? ” says he. 

“ Why, water ! ” says she. 

“ It do,” says he, and scratched his head. 

“And what’s yellow and shining but isn’t gold?” 

“ Why, the sun ! ” says she. 

“ Faith, it be ! ” says he. “ Come, we’ll go up to the 
wise woman at once,” and off they went. And as they 
came up the pad, she was sitting at the door, twining 
straws. 

“ Good e’en, missis,” says he. 

“ Good e’en, fool,” says she. 

“I reckon I’ve fetched thee the right thing at last,” 
says he. 

The wise woman looked at them both, and wiped her 
spectacles. 

“Canst tell me what that is as has first no legs, and 
then two legs, and ends with four legs ? ” 

And the fool scratched his head and thought and 
thought, but he couldn’t tell. 

And the lass whispered in his ear: 

“ It’s a tadpole.” 

“ M’appen,” says he then, “ it may be a tadpole, 
missis.” 

The wise woman nodded her head. 

“ That’s right,” says she, “ and thou’st got thy pottle o’ 
brains already.” 

“Where be they?” says he, looking about and feeling 
in his pockets. 

“In thy wife’s head,” says she. “The only cure for 
a fool is a good wife to look after him, and that thou’st 
got, so good e’en to thee!” And with that she nodded 
to them, and up and into the house. 

371 


So they went home together, and he never wanted to 
buy a pottle o’ brains again, for his wife had enough for 
both. 


THE TALE OF A YOUTH WHO SET OUT TO 
LEARN WHAT FEAR WAS 

A father had two sons, of whom the eldest was clever 
and bright and always knew what he was about, but the 
youngest was stupid and couldn’t learn anything; so much 
so that those who saw him exclaimed: “What a burden 
he’ll be to his father!” Now, when there was anything 
to be done the eldest had always to do it ; hut if something 
was required late or in the night-time, and the way led 
through the churchyard or some such ghostly place, he 
alwaj^s replied, “Oh! no, father. Nothing will induce 
me to go there — • it makes me shudder ! ” for he was 
afraid. Or when they sat of an evening round the fire 
telling stories which made one’s flesh creep and the lis- 
teners sometimes said, “Oh! it makes one shudder,” the 
youngest sat in a corner, heard the exclamation, and could 
not understand what it meant. “ They are always saying 
it makes one shudder! it makes one shudder! Nothing 
makes me shudder. It’s probably an art quite beyond 
me.” 

Now it happened that his father said to him one day: 
“ Hearken, you there in the corner : you are growing big 
and strong and you must learn to earn your own bread. 
Look at your brother, what pains he takes; but all 
the money I’ve spent on your education is thrown 
away.” 

“My dear father,” he replied, “I will gladly learn — 
in fact, if it were possible I should like to learn to shud- 
der. I don’t understand that a bit yet.” The eldest 
372 


laughed when he heard this and thought to himself, " Good 
heavens! what a ninny my brother is! He’ll never come 
to any good. As the twig is bent, so is the tree inclined.” 
The father sighed and answered him: " You’ll soon learn 
to shudder ; but that won’t help you to make a living.” 

Shortly after this, when the sexton came to pay them 
a visit, the father broke out to him and told him what a 
bad hand his youngest son was at everything: he knew 
nothing and learned nothing. " Only think ! when I 
asked him how he purposed gaining a livelihood, he actu- 
ally asked to be taught to shudder.” "If that’s all he 
wants,” said the sexton, " I can teach him that. Just you 
send him to me — I’ll soon polish him up.” The father 
was quite pleased with the proposal, because he thought, 
" It will be a good discipline for the youth.” And so the 
sexton took him into his house, and his duty was to toll 
the hell. After a few days he woke him at midnight and 
hade him rise up and climb into the tower and toll. " How, 
my friend, I’ll teach you to shudder,” thought he. 

He stole forth secretly in front, and when the youth was 
up above and had turned round to grasp the hell-rope, he 
saw, standing opposite the hole of the belfry, a white 
figure. " Who’s there ? ” he called out, but the figure 
gave no answer and neither stirred nor moved. " An- 
swer,” cried the youth, "or begone. You have no busi- 
ness here at this hour of the night.” But the sexton re- 
mained motionless, so that the youth might think it was 
a ghost. The youth called out the second time: "What 
do you want here? Speak if you are an honest fellow, 
or I’ll knock you down the stairs.” The sexton thought, 
" He can’t mean that in earnest,” so gave forth no sound 
and stood as though he were made of stone. Then the 
youth shouted out to him the third time, and as that too 
had no effect he made a dash at the spectre and knocked 
it down the stairs, so that it fell about ten steps and re- 
373 


mained lying in a corner. Thereupon he tolled the bell, 
went home to bed without saying a word, and fell asleep. 

The sexton’s wife waited a long time for her husband, 
but he never appeared. At last she became anxious and 
woke the youth and asked: “ Don’t you know where my 
husband is? He went up to the tower in front of you.” 
“No,” answered the youth; “but some one stood on the 
stairs up there just opposite the trap-door in the belfry, 
and because he wouldn’t answer me or go away I took him 
for a rogue and knocked him down. You’d better go and 
see if it was he. I should be much distressed if it were.” 
The wife ran and found her husband, who was lying groan- 
ing in a corner, with his leg broken. 

She carried him down and then hurried with loud pro- 
testations to the youth’s father. “Your son has been 
the cause of a pretty misfortune,” she cried. “ He threw 
my husband downstairs so that he broke his leg. Take the 
good-for-nothing wretch out of our house.” The father 
was horrified, hurried to the youth, and gave him a scold- 
ing. 

“What unholy pranks are these? The evil one must 
have put them into your head.” “Father,” he replied, 
“ only listen to me. I am quite guiltless. He stood there 
in the night, like one who meant harm. I didn’t know 
who it was, and warned him three times to speak or 
begone.” “ Oh ! ” groaned the father, “ you’ll bring me 
nothing but misfortune. Get out of my sight. I won’t 
have anything more to do with you.” “ Yes, father, will- 
ingly. Only wait till daylight, then I’ll set out and learn 
to shudder, and in that way I shall be master of an art 
which will gain me a living.” “Learn what you will,” 
said the father, “it’s all one to me. Here are $50 for 
you. Set forth into the wide world with them; but see 
and tell no one where you come from or who your father 
is, for I am ashamed of you.” “Yes, father, whatever 
374 


you wish; and if that’s all you ask, I can easily keep it in 
mind.” 

When day broke the youth put the $50 into his pocket, 
set out on the hard high-road, and kept muttering to him- 
self : " If I could only shudder ! if I could only shudder ! ” 
Just at this moment a man came by who heard the youth 
speaking to himself, and when they had gone on a bit and 
were in sight of the gallows the man said to him : " Look ! 
there is the tree where seven people have been hanged and 
are now learning to fly. Sit down under it and wait till 
nightfall, and then you’ll pretty soon learn to shudder.” 
"If that’s all I have to do,” answered the youth, "it’s 
easily done; but if I learn to shudder so quickly, then you 
shall have my $50. Just come back to me to-morrow 
morning early.” Then the youth went to the gallows- 
tree and sat down underneath it and waited for the even- 
ing, and because he felt cold he lit himself a fire. But at 
midnight it got so chill that in spite of the fire he couldn’t 
keep warm. 

As the wind blew the corpses one against the other, toss- 
ing them to and fro, he thought to himself, "If you are 
perishing down here by the fire, how those poor things up 
there must be shaking and shivering ! ” And because he 
had a tender heart, he put up a ladder, which he climbed, 
unhooked one body after the other, and took down all the 
seven. Then he stirred the fire, blew it up, and placed 
them all round in a circle, that they might warm them- 
selves. But they sat there and did not move, and the fire 
caught their clothes. Then he spoke : " Take care, or I’ll 
hang you up again.” But the dead men did not hear and 
let their rags go on burning. Then he got angry and 
said: "If you aren’t careful yourselves, then I can’t help 
you, and I don’t mean to burn with you.” And he hung 
them up again in a row. Then he sat down at his fire 
and fell asleep. 


375 


On the following morning the man came to him and, 
wishing to get his $5.0, said: “ Now you know what it is to 
shudder.” “No,” he answered, “how should I? Those 
fellows up there never opened their mouths, and were so 
stupid that they let those few old tatters they have on 
their own bodies burn.” Then the man saw he wouldn’t 
get his $50 that day, and went off saying: “Well, I’m 
blessed if I ever met such a person in my life before.” 

The youth too went on his way, and began to murmur 
to himself : “ Oh ! if I could only shudder ! if I could only 
shudder ! ” A carrier w T ho was walking behind him heard 
these words and asked him : “ Who are you ? ” “I don’t 
know,” said the youth. “ Where do you hail from ? ” “ I 

don’t know.” “ Who’s your father ? ” “I mayn’t say.” 
“ What are you constantly muttering to yourself ? ” 
“ Oh ! ” said the youth, “ I would give worlds to shud- 
der, but no one can teach me.” “ Stuff and nonsense ! ” 
spoke the carrier. “ Come along with me and I’ll soon put 
that right.” The youth went with the carrier, and in the 
evening they reached an inn, where they were to spend 
the night. Then just as he was entering the room, he 
said again quite loud : “ Oh ! if I could only shudder ! ” 
The landlord, who heard this, laughed and said : “ If that’s 
what you’re sighing for you shall be given every oppor- 
tunity here.” “ Oh ! hold your tongue ! ” said the land- 
lord’s wife. “ So many people have paid for their curiosity 
with their lives, it were a thousand pities if those beautiful 
eyes were never again to behold daylight.” But the youth 
said: “No matter how difficult, I insist on 'learning it. 
Why, that’s what I’ve set out to do.” 

He left the landlord no peace till he told him that in 
the neighbourhood stood a haunted castle, where one could 
easily learn to shudder if one only kept watch in it for 
three nights. The king had promised the man who dared 
to do this thing his daughter as wife, and she was the most 
376 


beautiful maiden under the sun. There was also much 
treasure hid in the castle, guarded by evil spirits, which 
would then be free, and would be sufficient to make a 
poor man more than rich. Many had gone in, but so far 
none had ever come out again. So the youth went to the 
king and spoke: “ If I were allowed, I should much like 
to watch for three nights in the castle / 5 The king looked 
at him, and because he pleased him he said: “You can 
ask for three things, none of them living, and those you 
may take with you into the castle / 5 Then he answered: 
“ Well, I shall beg for a fire, a turning lathe, and a carving 
bench with the knife attached . 55 

On the following day the king had everything put into 
the castle, and when night drew on the youth took up his 
position there, lit a bright fire in one of the rooms, placed 
the carving bench with the knife close to it, and sat him- 
self down on the turning lathe. “ Oh ! if I could only 
shudder ! 55 he said ; “ but I shan’t learn it here either / 5 
Toward midnight he wanted to make up the fire, and as 
he was blowing up a blaze he heard a shriek from a 
corner. “ Ou, meow ! how cold we are ! 55 “ You fools ! 55 
he cried; “why do you scream? If you are cold, come 
and sit at the fire and warm yourselves / 5 And as he 
spoke two huge black cats sprang fiercely forward and sat 
down, one on each side of him, and gazed wildly at him 
with their fiery eyes. 

After a time, when they had warmed themselves, they 
said: “Friend, shall we play a little game of cards ? 55 
“ Why not ? 55 he replied. “ But first let me see your paws / 5 
Then they stretched out their claws. “ Ha ! 55 said he ; 
“what long nails you’ve got! Wait a minute. I must 
first cut them off / 5 Thereupon he seized them by the 
scruff of their necks, lifted them on to the carving bench, 
and screwed down their paws firmly. “After watching 
you narrowly , 55 said he, “I no longer feel any desire to 

sn 


play cards with you.” And with these words he struck 
them dead and threw them out into the water. But when 
he had thus sent the two of them to their final rest and 
was again about to sit down at the fire, out of every nook 
and corner came forth black cats and black dogs with fiery 
chains in sueh swarms that he couldn’t possibly get away 
from them. They yelled in the most ghastly manner, 
jumped upon his fire, scattered it all, and tried to put it 
out. He looked on quietly for a time, but when it got 
beyond a joke he seized his carving-knife and called out, 
“ Be off, you rabble rout ! ” and let fly at them. Some 
of them fled away, and the others he struck dead and 
threw them out into the pond below. 

When he returned he blew up the sparks of the fire once 
more and warmed himself. And as he sat thus his eyes 
refused to keep open any longer, and a desire to sleep 
stole over him. Then he looked around him and beheld 
in the corner a large bed. “ The very thing,” he said, and 
laid himself down in it. But when he wished to close 
his eyes the bed began to move by itself and ran all round 
the castle. “ Capital,” he said, “ only a little quicker.” 
Then the bed sped on as if drawn by six horses, over 
thresholds and stairs, up this way and down that. All of 
a sudden — crash! crash! with a bound it turned over, 
upside down, and lay like a mountain on top of him. But 
he tossed the blankets and pillows into the air, emerged 
from underneath, and saying “Now any one who has a 
fancy for it may go a drive,” lay down at his fire and slept 
till daybreak. 

In the morning the king came, and when he beheld him 
lying on the ground he imagined the ghosts had been too 
much for him and that he was dead. Then he said: 
“What a pity! and such a fine fellow as he was.” The 
youth heard this, got up, and said : “ It’s not come to that 
yet.” Then the king was astonished, but very glad, and 
378 


asked how it had fared with him. “ First-rate/’ he an- 
swered; “and now Fve survived the one night, I shall 
get through the other two also.” The landlord, when he 
went to him, opened his eyes wide and 6aid: “Well, I 
never thought to see you alive again. Have you learned 
now what shuddering is?” “No,” he replied, “it’s quite 
hopeless. If some one could only tell me how to ! ” 

The second night he went up again to the old castle, 
sat down at the tire, and began his old refrain : “ If I 
could only shudder ! ” As midnight approached a noise 
and din broke out, at first gently, but gradually increas- 
ing; then all was quiet for a minute, and at length, with 
a loud scream, half of a man dropped down the chimney 
and fell before him. “ Hi, up there ! ” shouted he. 
“ There’s another half wanted down here — that’s not 
enough.” Then the din commenced once more, there was 
a shrieking and a yelling, and then the other half fell 
down. “ Wait a bit,” he said. “ I’ll stir up the fire for 
you.” When he had done this and again looked round 
the two pieces had united, and a horrible-looking man sat 
on his seat. “ Come,” said the youth, “ I didn’t bargain 
for that — the seat is mine.” The man tried to shove him 
away, but the youth wouldn’t allow it for a moment, and 
pushing him off by force sat down in his place again. 

Then more men dropped down, one after the other, 
who, fetching nine skeleton legs and two skulls, put them 
up and played ninepins with them. The youth thought 
he would like to play too and said : “ Look here ; do you 

mind my joining the game?” “No, not if you have 
money.” “I’ve money enough,” he replied, “but your 
balls aren’t very round.” Then he took the skulls, placed 
them on his lathe, and turned them till they were round. 
“Now they’ll roll along better,” said he, “and houp-la! 
now the fun begins.” He played with them and lost 
some of his money, but when ’twelve struck everything 
379 


vanished before his eyes. He lay down and slept peace- 
fully. The next morning the king came, anxious for 
news. “ How have you got on this time ? ” he asked. 
“ I played ninepins / 5 he answered, “ and lost a few pence . 55 
“ Didn’t you shudder then ? 55 “Ho such luck , 55 said he. 
“ I made myself merry. Oh ! if I only knew what it was 
to shudder ! 55 

On the third night he sat down again on his bench and 
said, in the most desponding way : “ If I could only shud- 

der ! 55 When it got late, six big men came in carrying 
a coffin. Then he cried: “Ha! ha! that’s most likely 
my little cousin who died only a few days ago ; 55 and 
beckoning with his finger he called out : “ Come, my small 

cousin, come . 55 They placed the coffin on the ground, and 
he approached it, and took off the cover. In it lay a 
dead man. He felt his face, and it was cold as ice. 
“ Wait,” he said, “ I’ll heat you up a bit,” went to the 
fire, warmed his hand, and laid it on the man’s face, but 
the dead remained cold. Then he lifted him out, sat 
down at the fire, laid him on his knee, and rubbed his 
arms that the blood should circulate again. 

When that too had no effect, it occurred to him that 
if two people lay together in bed they warmed each other; 
so he put him into the bed, covered him up, and lay down 
beside him. After a time the corpse became warm and 
began to move. Then the youth said: “How, my little 
cousin, what would have happened if I hadn’t warmed 
you?” But the dead man rose up and cried out: “How 
I will strangle you.” “ What ! ” said he, “ is that all the 
thanks I get? You shall be put straight back into your 
coffin,” lifted him up, threw him in, and closed the lid. 
Then the six men came and carried him out again. “I 
simply can’t shudder,” he said, “and it’s clear I shan’t 
learn it in a lifetime here.” 

Then a man entered, of more than ordinary size and of 
380 


a very fearful appearance ; but be was old and bad a white 
beard. “ Oh ! you miserable creature, now you will soon 
know what it is to shudder,” he cried, “for you must 
die.” “ Not so quickly,” answered the youth. “ If I am 
to die, you must catch me first.” “I shall soon lay hold 
of you,” spoke the monster. “ Gently, gently ; don’t boast 
too much. I’m as strong as you, and stronger too.” 
“ We’ll soon see,” said the old man. “If you are stronger 
than I, then I’ll let you off. Come, let’s have a try.” 

Then he led him through some dark passages to a forge, 
and grasping an axe he drove one of the anvils with a 
blow into the earth. “I can do better than that,” cried 
the youth, and went to the other anvil. The old man 
drew near him in order to watch closely, and his white 
beard hung right down. Then the youth seized the axe, 
cleft the anvil open, and jammed in the old man’s beard. 
“Now I have you,” said the youth; “this time it’s your 
turn to die.” Then he seized an iron rod and belaboured 
the old man till he, whimpering, begged him to leave off, 
and he would give him great riches. The youth drew out 
the axe and let him go. 

The old man led him back to the castle and showed him 
in a cellar three chests of gold. “ One of these,” he said, 
“ belongs to the poor, one to the king, and the third is 
yours.” At that moment twelve struck, and the spirit van- 
ished, leaving the youth alone in the dark. “I’ll surely 
be able to find a way out,” said he, and groping about 
he at length found his way back to the room and fell 
asleep at his fire. The next morning the king came and 
said : “ Well, now you’ve surely learned to shudder ? ” 

“No,” he answered. “What can it be? My dead cousin 
was there, and an old bearded man came who showed me 
heaps of money down below there, but what shuddering 
is no one has told me.” Then the king spoke: “You 
have freed the castle from its curse and you shall marry 
381 


my daughter.” “ That’s all charming,” he said; "but I 
still don’t know what it is to shudder.” 

Then the gold was brought up and the weddinig was 
celebrated, but the young king, though he loved his wife 
dearly and though he was very happy, still kept on say- 
ing : “ If I could only shudder ! if I could only shudder ! ” 

At last he reduced her to despair. Then her maid said: 
“ I’ll help you. We’ll soon make him shudder.” So she 
went out to the stream that flowed through the garden 
and had a pailful of little gudgeons brought to her. At 
night, when the young king was asleep, his wife had to pull 
the clothes off him and pour the pailful of little gudgeons 
over him, so that the little fish swam all about him. Then 
he awoke and cried out : “ Oh ! how I shudder, how I 

shudder, dear wife! Yes a now I know what shudder- 
ing is.” 


THE KING O’ THE CATS 

One winter’s evening the sexton’s wife was sitting by the 
fireside with her big black cat, Old Tom, on the other side, 
both half asleep and waiting for the master to come home. 
They waited and they waited, but still he didn’t come, till 
at last he came rushing in, calling out, “ Who’s Tommy 
Tildrum ? ” in such a wild way that both his wife and his 
cat stared at him to know what was the matter. 

“ Why, what’s the matter ? ” said his wife, " and why 
do you want to know who Tommy Tildrum is ? ” 

“ Oh, I’ve had such an adventure. I was digging away 
at old Mr. Fordyce’s grave when I suppose I must have 
dropped to sleep, and only woke up by hearing a cat’s 
Miaou! ” 

“ Miaou ! ” said Old Tom in answer. 

382 


“ Yes, just like that ! So I looked over the edge of the 
grave, and what do you think I saw?” 

“Now, how can I tell?” said the sexton’s wife. 

“ Why, nine black cats all like our friend Tom here, all 
with a white spot on their chestesses. And what do you 
think they were carrying? Why, a small coffin covered 
with a black velvet pall, and on the pall was a small 
coronet all of gold, and at every third step they took they 
cried all together, Miaou — ” 

“Miaou!” said Old Tom again. 

“ Yes, just like that ! ” said the sexton ; “ and as they 
came nearer and nearer to me I could see them more dis- 
tinctly, because their eyes shone out with a sort of green 
light. Well, they all came towards me, eight of them 
carrying the coffin, and the biggest cat of all walking in 
front for all the world like — but look at our Tom, how 
he’s looking at me. You’d think he knew all I was say- 
ing.” 

“ Go on, go on,” said his wife ; “ never mind Old Tom.” 

“Well, as I was saying, they came towards me slowly 
and solemnly, and at every third step crying all together, 
Miaou — ” 

“Miaou!” said Old Tom again. 

“Yes, just like that, till they came and stood right 
opposite Mr. Fordyce’s grave, where I was, when they all 
stood still and looked straight at me. I did feel queer, 
that I did! But look at old Tom; he’s looking at me 
just as they did.” 

“ Go on, go on,” said his wife ; “ never mind Old Tom.” 

“ Where was I ? Oh, they all stood still looking at me, 
when the one that wasn’t carrying the coffin came forward 
and, staring at me, said to me — yes, I tell ’ee, said to me, 
with a squeaky voice, £ Tell Tom Tildrum that Tim Tol- 
drum’s dead,’ and that’s why I asked you if you knew who 
Tom Tildrum was, for how can I tell Tom Tildrum Tim 
383 


Toldrum’s dead if I don’t know who Tom Tildrum 
is?” 

“ Look at Old Tom, look at Old Tom ! ” screamed his 
wife. 

And well might he look, for Tom was swelling and Tom 
was staring, and at last Tom shrieked out, “ What — Old 
Tim dead ! then I’m the King o’ the Cats ! ” and rushed 
up the chimney and was never more seen. 


KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTER- 
BURY 

In the reign of King J ohn there lived an Abbot of Canter- 
bury who kept up grand state in his Abbey. A hundred 
of the Abbot’s men dined each day with him in his re- 
fectory, and fifty knights in velvet coats and gold chains 
waited upon him daily. Well, King John, as you know, 
was a very bad king, and he couldn’t brook the idea of 
any one in his kingdom, however holy he might be, being 
honoured more than he. So he summoned the Abbot of 
Canterbury to his presence. 

The Abbot came with a goodly retinue, with his fifty 
knights-at-arms in velvet cloaks and gold chains. The 
King went to meet him, “How now, Father Abbot? I 
hear of thee, thou keepest far greater state than I. This 
becomes not our royal dignity, and savours of treason in 
thee.” 

“My liege,” quoth the Abbot, bending low, “I beg to 
say that all I spend has been given to the Abbey out of 
the piety of the folk. I trust your Grace will not take it 
ill that I spend for the Abbey’s sake what is the Abbey’s.” 

“Nay, proud prelate,” answered the King, “all that is 
in this fair realm of England is our own, and thou hast 
384 


no right to put me to shame by holding such state. How- 
ever, of my clemency I will spare thee thy life and thy 
property if you can but answer me three questions.” 

“ I will do so, my liege,” said the Abbot, “ so far as my 
poor wit can extend.” 

“Well then,” said the King, “tell me where is the 
centre of all the world round; then let me know how soon 
I can ride the whole world about; and lastly, tell me what 
I think.” 

“Your Majesty jesteth,” stammered the Abbot. 

“Thou wilt find it no jest,” said the King. “Unless 
thon canst answer me these questions three before a week 
is out, thy head will leave thy body ; ” and he turned away. 

Well, the Abbot rode away in fear and trembling, and 
first he went to Oxford to see if any learned doctor could 
tell him the answer to those questions three ; but none could 
help him, and he took his way to Canterbury, sad and 
sorrowful, to take leave of his monks. But on his way 
he met his shepherd as he was going to the fold. 

“Welcome home. Lord Abbot,” quoth the shepherd; 
“what news from good King John?” 

“ Sad news, sad news, my shepherd,” said the Abbot, and 
told him all that had happened. 

“Now cheer up, Sir Abbot,” said the shepherd. “A 
fool may perhaps answer what a wise man knows not. I 
will go to London in your stead; grant me only your ap- 
parel and your retinue of knights. At the least I can die 
in your place.” 

“Nay, shepherd, not so,” said the Abbot; “I must meet 
the danger in my own person. And to that, thou canst 
not pass for me.” 

“ But I can and I will, Sir Abbot. In a cowl, who will 
know me for what I am ? ” 

So at last the Abbot consented, and sent him to Lon- 
don in his most splendid array, and he approached King 
385 


John with all his retinue as before, but dressed in his 
simple monk’s dress and his cowl over his face. 

“Now welcome. Sir Abbot,” said King John; “thou 
art prepared for thy doom, I see.” 

“ I am ready to answer your Majesty,” said he. 

“ Well, then, question first — where is the centre of the 
round earth?” said the King. 

“Here,” said the shepherd Abbot, planting his crozier 
in the ground; “ an’ your Majesty believe me not, go meas- 
ure it and see.” 

“ By St. Botolph,” said the King, “ a merry answer and 
a shrewd; so to question the second. How soon may I 
ride this round world about ? ” 

“ If your Majesty will graciously rise with the sun, and 
ride along with him until the next morning he rise, your 
Grace will surely have ridden it round.” 

“ By St. John,” laughed King John, “ I did not think it 
could be done so soon. But let that pass, and tell me 
question third and last, and that is — What do I think ? ” 

“ That is easy, your Grace,” said he. “ Your Majesty 
thinks I am my lord the Abbot of Canterbury; but you 
may see,” and here he raised his cowl, “ I am but his poor 
shepherd, that am come to ask your pardon for him and 
me.” 

Loud laughed the King. “Well caught. Thou hast 
more wit than thy lord, and thou shalt be Abbot in his 
place.” 

“Nay, that cannot be,” quoth the shepherd; “I know 
not to write nor to read.” 

“Well, then, four nobles a week thou shalt have for 
the ready wit. And tell the Abbot from me that he has 
my pardon.” And with that King John sent away the 
shepherd with a right royal present, besides his pension. 


386 


TAMLANE 


Young Tamlane was son of Earl Murray, and Burd 
J anet wa£ daughter of Dunbar, Earl of March. And when 
they were young they loved one another and plighted their 
troth. But when the time came near for their marrying, 
Tamlane disappeared, and none knew what had become 
of him. 

Many, many days after he had disappeared, Burd Janet 
was wandering in Carterhaugh Wood, though she had been 
warned not to go there. And as she wandered she plucked 
the flowers from the bushes. She came at last to a bush 
of broom and began plucking it. She had not taken more 
than three flowerets when by her side up started young 
Tamlane. 

“ Where do you come from, Tamlane, Tamlane ? ” Burd 
Janet said; “and why have you been away so long?” 

“ From Elfland I come,” said young Tamlane. “ The 
Queen of Elfland has made me her knight.” 

“But how did you get there, Tamlane?” said Burd 
J anet. 

“ I was hunting one day, and as I rode widershins round 
yon hill, a deep drowsiness fell upon me, and when I 
awoke, behold I was in Elfland. Fair is that land and 
gay, and fain would I stop but for thee and one other 
thing. Every seven years the Elves pay their tithe to the 
nether world, and for all the Queen makes much of me, 
I fear that it is myself that will be the tithe.” 

“ Oh, can you not be saved ? Tell me if aught I can do 
will save you, Tamlane?” 

“ One thing only is there for my safety. To-morrow 
night is Hallowe’en, and the fairy court will then ride 
387 


through England and Scotland, and if you would borrow 
me from Elfland you must take your stand by Miles 
Cross between twelve and one o’ the night, and with holy 
water in your hand you must cast a compass all around 
you .” 

“ But how shall I know you, Tamlane ? ” quoth Burd 
Janet, “amid so many knights I’ve ne’er seen before?” 

“ The first court of Elves that come by let pass. The 
next court you shall pay reverence to, but do naught nor 
say aught. But the third court that comes by is the chief 
court of them all, and at the head rides the Queen of all 
Elfland. And I shall ride by her side upon a milk-white 
steed with a star in my crown; they give me this honour 
as being a christened knight. Watch my hands, Janet, 
the right one will be gloved but the left one will be bare, 
and by that token you will know me.” 

“ But how to save you, Tamlane ? ” quoth Burd J anet. 

“You must spring upon me suddenly, and I will fall 
to the ground. Then seize me quick, and whatever change 
befall me, for they will exercise all their magic on me, 
cling hold to me till they turn me into a red-hot iron. 
Then cast me into this pool and I will be turned back 
into a mother-naked man. Cast then your green man- 
tle over me, and I shall be yours, and be of the world 
again.” 

So Burd Janet promised to do all for Tamlane, and 
next night at midnight she took he‘r stand at Miles Cross 
and cast a compass round her with holy water. 

Soon there came riding by the Elfin court, first over the 
mound went a troop of black steeds, and then another 
troop on brown. But in the third court, all on milk- 
white steeds, she saw the Queen of Elfland, and by her 
side a knight with a star in his crown, with right hand 
gloved and the left bare. Then she knew this was her 
own Tamlane, and springing forward she seized the 
388 


bridle of the milk-white steed and pulled its rider down. 
And as soon as he had touched the ground she let go the 
bridle and seized him in her arms. 

“ He’s won, he’s won amongst us all,” shrieked out the 
eldritch crew, and all came around her and tried their 
spells on young Tamlane. 

First they turned him in Janet’s arms like frozen ice, 
then into a huge flame of roaring fire. Then, again, the 
fire vanished and an adder was skipping through her arms, 
but still she held on. Then suddenly a dove was strug- 
gling in her arms, and almost flew away. Then they 
turned him into a swan, but all was in vain, till at last 
he was turned into a red-hot glaive, and this she cast into 
a well of water and then he turned back into a mother- 
naked man. She quickly cast her green mantle over him, 
and young Tamlane was Burd Janet’s forever. 

Then sang the Queen of Elfland as the court turned 
away and began to resume its march : 

“ She that has borrowed young Tamlane 
Has gotten a stately groom, 

She’s taken away my bonniest knight, 

Left nothing in his room. 

“ But had I known, Tamlane, Tamlane, 

A lady would borrow thee, 

I’d hae ta’en out thy two grey eyne. 

Put in two eyne of tree. 

“ Had I but known, Tamlane, Tamlane, 

Before we came from home, 

I’d hae ta’en out thy heart o’ flesh, 

Put in a heart of stone. 

“ Had I but had the wit yestreen 
That I have got to-day, 

I’d paid the Fiend seven times his teind 
Ere you’d been won away.” 

389 


And then the Elfin court rode away, and Burd Janet 
and young Tamlane went their way homewards and were 
soon married after young Tamlane had again been 
sained by the holy water and made Christian once more. 


HOK LEE AND THE DWARFS 

There once lived in a small town in China a man named 
Hok Lee. He was a steady, industrious man, who not 
only worked hard at his trade, but did all his own house- 
work as well, for he had no wife to do it for him. “ What 
an excellent, industrious man is this Hok Lee ! ” said his 
neighbours. “How hard he works! he never leaves his 
house to amuse himself or to take a holiday as others 
do!” 

But Hok Lee was by no means the virtuous person his 
neighbours thought him. True, he worked hard enough 
by day, but at night, when all respectable folk were fast 
asleep, he used to steal out and join a dangerous band of 
robbers, who broke into rich people’s houses and carried 
off all they could lay hands on. 

This state of things went on for some time, and though 
a thief was caught now and then and punished, no sus- 
picion ever fell on Hok Lee, he was such a very respect- 
able, hard-working man. 

Hok Lee had already amassed a good store of money as 
his share of the proceeds of these robberies, when it hap- 
pened one morning on going to market that a neighbour 
said to him: 

“Why, Hok Lee, what is the matter with your face? 
One side of it is all swelled, up.” 

True enough, Hok Lee’s right cheek was twice the size 
of his left, and it soon began to feel very uncomfortable. 

390 


"I will bind up my face/’ said Hok Lee. “ Doubtless 
the warmth will cure the swelling.” But no such thing. 
Next day it was worse, and day by day it grew bigger and 
bigger till it was nearly as large as his head and became 
very painful. 

Hok Lee was at his wits’ ends what to do. Not only 
was his cheek unsightly and painful, but his neighbours 
began to jeer and make fun of him, which hurt his feel- 
ings very much indeed. 

One day, as luck would have it, a travelling doctor came 
to the town. He sold not only all kinds of medicine, but 
also dealt in many strange charms against witches and 
evil spirits. 

Hok Lee determined to consult him and asked him into 
his house. After the doctor had examined him carefully 
he spoke thus: 

“This, 0 Hok Lee, is no ordinary swelled face. I 
strongly suspect you have been doing some wrong deed 
which has called down the anger of the spirits on you. 
None of my drugs will avail to cure you, but if you are 
willing to pay me handsomely I can tell you how you may 
be cured.” 

Then Hok Lee and the doctor began to bargain to- 
gether, and it was a long time before they could come to 
terms. However, the doctor got the better of it in the 
end, for he was determined not to part with the secret 
under a certain price, and Hok Lee had no mind to carry 
his huge cheek about with him to the end of his days. 
So he was obliged to part with the greater portion of his 
ill-gotten gains. 

When the doctor had pocketed the money he told Hok 
Lee to go on the first night of the full moon to a certain 
wood and there to watch by a particular tree. After a 
time he would see the dwarfs and little sprites who live 
underground come out to dance. “ And mind you dance 
391 


your very best/* said the doctor. “ If you dance well and 
please them they will grant you a petition and you can 
then beg to be cured; but if you dance badly they will 
most likely do you a mischief out of spite.” With that 
he took leave and departed. 

Happily the first night of the full moon was near, and 
at the proper time Hok Lee set out for the wood. With 
a little trouble he found the tree the doctor had described, 
and feeling nervous he climbed up into it. 

He had hardly settled himself on a branch when he saw 
the little dwarfs assembling in the moonlight. They came 
from all sides, till at length there appeared to be hun- 
dreds of them. They seemed in high glee and danced and 
skipped and capered about, while Hok Lee grew so eager 
watching them that he crept further and further along 
his branch till at length it gave a loud crack. All the 
dwarfs stood still, and Hok Lee felt as if his heart stood 
still also. 

Then one of the dwarfs called out: “Some one is up 
in that tree. Come down at once, whoever you are, or we 
must come and fetch you.” 

In great terror Hok Lee proceeded to come down; but 
he was so nervous that he tripped near the ground and 
came rolling down in the most absurd manner. When he 
had picked himself up he came forward with a low bow, 
and the dwarf who had first spoken and who appeared to 
be the leader said: “How, then, who art thou and what 
brings you here ? ” 

So Hok Lee told them the sad story of his swelled cheek, 
and how he had been advised to come to the forest and 
beg the dwarfs to cure him. 

“It is well,” replied the dwarf. “We will see about 
that. First, however, thou must dance before us. Should 
thy dancing please us, perhaps we may be able to do some- 
393 


thing; but shouldst thou dance badly we shall assuredly 
punish thee, so now take warning and dance away.” 

With that, he and all the other dwarfs sat down in a 
large ring, leaving Hok Lee to dance alone in the middle. 
He felt half-frightened to death, and besides was a good 
deal shaken by his fall from the tree and did not feel at 
all inclined to dance. But the dwarfs were not to be 
trifled with. 

“ Begin ! ” cried the leader, and “ Begin ! ” shouted the 
rest in chorus. 

So in despair Hok Lee began. First he hopped on one 
foot and then on the other, but he w'as so stiff and so nerv- 
ous that he made but a poor attempt, and after a time 
sank down on the ground and vowed he could dance no 
more. 

The dwarfs were very angry. They crowded round 
Hok Lee and abused him. “ Thou to come here to be 
cured, indeed ! ” they cried. “ Thou hast brought one big 
cheek with thee, but thou shalt take away two.” And with 
that they ran off and disappeared, leaving Hok Lee to find 
his way home as best he might. 

He hobbled away weary and depressed, and not a little 
anxious on account of the dwarfs 5 threat. 

Nor were his fears unfounded, for when he rose next 
morning his left cheek was swelled up as big as his right, 
and he could hardly see out of his eyes. Hok Lee felt in 
despair, and his neighbours jeered at him more than ever. 
The doctor, too, had disappeared, so there was nothing for 
it but to try the dwarfs once more. 

He waited a month till the first night of the full moon 
came round again, and then he trudged back to the forest 
and sat down under the tree from which he had fallen. 
He had not long to wait. Ere long the dwarfs came 
trooping out till all were assembled. 

393 


“ I feel as if some 


“ I don’t feel quite easy/’ said one. 
horrid human being were near us.” 

When Hok Lee heard this he came forward and bent 
down to the ground before the dwarfs, who came crowding 
round and laughed heartily at his comical appearance with 
his two big cheeks. 

“What dost thou want?” they asked; and Hok Lee 
proceeded to tell them of his fresh misfortunes, and 
begged so hard to be allowed one more trial at dancing 
that the dwarfs consented, for there is nothing they love 
so much as being amused. 

Now, Hok Lee knew how much depended on his dancing 
well, so he plucked up a good spirit and began, first quite 
slowly and faster by degrees, and he danced so well and 
gracefully, and made such new and wonderful steps, that 
the dwarfs were quite delighted with him. 

They clapped their hands and shouted: “Well done, 
Hok Lee, well done. Go on — dance more, for we are 
pleased.” 

And Hok Lee danced on and on, till he really could 
dance no more and was obliged to stop. 

Then the leader of the dwarfs said: “We are pleased, 
Hok Lee, and as a recompense for thy dancing thy face 
shall be cured. Farewell.” 

With these words he and the other dwarfs vanished, and 
Hok Lee, putting his hands to his face, found to his great 
joy that his cheeks were reduced to their natural size. 
The way home seemed short and easy to him, and he went 
to bed happy and resolved never to go out robbing again. 

Next day the whole town was full of the news of Hok’s 
sudden cure. His neighbours questioned him, but could 
get nothing from him except the fact that he had discov- 
ered a wonderful cure for all kinds of diseases. 

After a time a rich neighbour, who had been ill for 
some years, came and offered to give Hok Lee a large sum 
394 


of money if he would tell him how he might get cured. 
Hok Lee consented on condition that he swore to keep the 
secret. He did so, and Hok Lee told him of the dwarfs 
and their dances. 

The neighbour went off, carefully obeyed Hok Lee’s 
directions, and was duly cured by the dwarfs. Then 
another and another came to Hok Lee to beg his secret, 
and from each he extracted a vow of secrecy and a large 
sum of money. This went on for years, so that at length 
Hok Lee became a very wealthy man and ended his days 
in peace and prosperity. 


THE KING OF ENGLAND AND HIS THREE 
SONS 

Once upon a time there was an old king who had three 
sons; and the old king fell very sick one time and there 
was nothing at all could make him well but some golden 
apples from a far country. So the three brothers went on 
horseback to look for some of these apples. They set off 
together, and when they came to a cross-roads they halted 
and refreshed themselves a bit; and then they agreed to 
meet on a certain time, and not one to go home before the 
other. So Valentine took the right, and Oliver went 
straight on, and poor Jack took the left. 

To make my long story short, I shall follow poor Jack, 
and let the other two take their chance, for I don’t think 
there was much good in them. Off poor Jack rides over 
hills, dales, valleys, and mountains, through woolly woods 
and ^leepwalks, where the old chap never sounded his 
hollow bugle-horn, further than I can tell you to-night 
or ever intend to tell you. 

At last he came to an old house, near a great forest, 
395 


and there was an old man sitting out by the door, and his 
look was enough to frighten you or any one else; and the 
old man said to him: 

“ Good morning, my king’s son.” 

" Good morning to you, old gentleman,” was the young 
prince’s answer; frightened out of his wits though he was 
he didn’t like to give in. 

The old gentleman told him to dismount and to go in to 
have some refreshments and to put his horse in the stable, 
such as it was. Jack soon felt much better after having 
something to eat, and began to ask the old gentleman, 
how he knew he was a king’s son. 

“ Oh dear ! ” said the old man, “ I knew that you were 
a king’s son, and I know what is your business better than 
what you do yourself. So you will have to stay here to- 
night; and when you are in bed you mustn’t be frightened, 
whatever you hear. There will come all manner of frogs 
and snakes, and some will try to get into your eyes and 
mouth, but mind, don’t stir the least bit or you will turn 
into one of those things yourself.” 

Poor Jack didn’t know what to make of this, but, how- 
ever, he ventured to go to bed. Just as he thought to 
have a bit of sleep, round and over and under him they 
came, but he never stirred an inch all night. 

“ Well, my young son, how are you this morning?” 

“ Oh, I am very well, thank you, but I didn’t have much 
rest.” 

"Well, never mind that; you have got on very well so 
far, but you have a great deal to go through before you can 
have the golden apples to go to your father. You’d bet- 
ter come and have some breakfast before you start on your 
way to my other brother’s house. You will have to leave 
your own horse here with me until you come back again, 
and tell me everything about how you get on ” 

After that out came a fresh horse for the young prince, 
396 


and the old man gave him a ball of yarn, and he flung it 
between the horse’s two ears. 

Off he went as fast as the wind, which the wind behind 
could not catch the wind before, until he came to the 
second oldest brother’s house. When he rode up to the 
door he had the same salute as from the first old man, 
but this was even uglier than the first one. He had long 
grey hair, and his teeth were curling out of his mouth, 
and his finger- and toenails had not been cut for many 
thousand years. He put the horse into a much better 
stable, arid called Jack in, and gave him plenty to eat 
and drink, and they had a bit of chat before they went 
to bed. 

“ Well, my son,” said the old man, “ I suppose you are 
one of the king’s children come to look for the golden 
apples to bring him back to health.” 

“Yes, I am the youngest of three brothers, and I 
should like to get them to go back with.” 

“Well, don’t mind, my young son. Before you go to 
bed to-night I will send to my eldest brother, and will tell 
him w T hat you want, and he won’t have much trouble in 
sending you on to the place where you must get the 
apples. But mind not to stir to-night no matter how 
you get bitten and stung, or else you will work great mis- 
chief to yourself.” 

The young man went to bed and bore all, as he did the 
first night, and got up the next morning well and hearty. 
After a good breakfast out comes a fresh horse, and a 
ball of yarn to throw between his ears. The old man told 
him to jump up quick, and said that he had made it all 
right with his eldest brother, not to delay for anything 
whatever, “For,” said he, “you have a good deal to go 
through with in a very short and quick time.” 

He flung the ball, and off he goes as quick as lightning, 
and comes to the eldest brother’s house. The old man 
397 


received him very kindly and told him he long wished to 
see him, and that he would go through his work like a 
man and come back safe and sound. “ To-night,” said 
he, “ I will give you rest; there shall nothing come to dis- 
turb you, so that you may not feel sleepy for to-morrow. 
And you must mind to get up middling early, for you’ve 
got to go and come all in the same day; there will be no 
place for you to rest within thousands of miles of that 
place; and if there was, you would stand in great danger 
never to come from there in your own form. Now, my 
young prince, mind what I tell you. To-morrow, when 
you come in sight of a very large castle, which will be 
surrounded with black water, the first thing you will do 
you will tie your horse to a tree, and you will see three 
beautiful swans in sight, and you will say, ‘ Swan, swan, 
carry me over in the name of the Griffin of the Green- 
wood,’ and the swans will swim you over to the earth. 
There will be three great entrances, the first guarded by 
four giants with drawn swords in their hands, the second 
by lions, the other by fiery serpents and dragons. You 
will have to be there exactly at one o’clock ; and mind and 
leave there precisely at two, and not a moment later. 
When the swans carry you over to the castle, you will pass 
all these things, all fast asleep, but you must not notice 
any of them. 

“WTien you go in, you will turn up to the right; you 
will see some grand rooms, then you will go downstairs 
through the cooking kitchen, and through a door on your 
left you go into a garden, where you will find the apples 
you want for your father to get well. After you fill your 
wallet, you make all speed you possibly can, and call out 
for the swans to carry you over the same as before. After 
you get on your horse, should you hear anything shouting 
or making any noise after you, be sure not to look back, 
as they will follow you for thousands of miles; but when 
398 


the time is up and you get near my place, it will be all 
over. Well now, my young man, I have told you all you 
have to do to-morrow; and mind, whatever you do, don’t 
look about you when you see all those frightful things 
asleep. Keep a good heart, and make haste from there, 
and come back to me with all the speed you can. I 
should like to know how my two brothers were when you 
left them, and what they said to you about me.” 

“ Well, to tell the truth, before I left London my father 
was sick, and said I was to come here to look for the 
golden apples, for they were the only things that would 
do him good; and when I came to your youngest brother, 
he told me many things I had to do before I came here. 
And I thought once that your youngest brother put me 
in the wrong bed, when he put all those snakes to bite me 
all night long, until your second brother told me * So it 
was to be/ and said 6 it is the same here/ but said you 
had none in your beds.” 

"Well, let’s go to bed. You need not fear. There are 
no snakes here.” 

The young man went to bed, and had a good night’s 
rest, and got up the next morning as fresh as newly 
caught trout. Breakfast being over, out comes the other 
horse, and, while saddling and fretting, the old man began 
to laugh, and told the young gentleman that if he saw a 
pretty young lady, not to stay with her too long, because 
she might waken, and then he would have to stay with 
her or to be turned into one of those unearthly monsters, 
like those he would have to pass by going into the castle. 

“Ha! ha! ha! you make me laugh so that I can 
scarcely buckle the saddle-straps. I think I shall make it 
all right, my uncle, if I see a young lady there, you may 
depend.” 

“ Well, my boy, I shall see how you get on.” 

So he mounts his Arab steed, and off he goes like a 
399 


shot out of a gun. At last he comes in sight of the castle. 
He ties his horse safe to a tree, and pulls out his watch. 
It was then a quarter to one when he called out, “ Swan, 
swan, carry me over, for the name of the old Griffin of the 
Greenwood.” No sooner said than done. A swan under 
each side, and one in front, took him over in a trice. 
He got on his legs, and walked quietly by all those 
dragons, giants, fiery serpents, and all manner of other 
frightful things too numerous to mention, while they were 
fast asleep, and that only for the space of one hour, when 
into the castle he goes neck or nothing. Turning to the 
right, upstairs he runs, and enters into a very grand bed- 
room, and sees a very beautiful princess lying full stretch 
on a gold bedstead, fast asleep. He gazed on her beauti- 
ful form with admiration, and takes her garter off, and 
buckles it on his own leg, and he buckles his on hers; he 
also takes his gold watch and pocket handkerchief, and 
exchanges his for hers; after that he ventures to give her 
a kiss, when she very nearly opened her eyes. Seeing the 
time short, off he runs downstairs, and passing through 
the kitchen to go into the garden for the apples, he could 
see the cook on all-fours on her back on the middle of the 
floor, with the knife in one hand and the fork in the other. 
He found the apples, and filled the wallet; and on passing 
through the kitchen the cook near wakened, but he was 
obliged to make all the speed he possibly could, as the 
time was nearly up. He called out for the swans, and 
they managed to take him over; but they found that he 
was a little heavier than before. No sooner than he had 
mounted his horse he could hear a tremendous noise, the 
enchantment was broken, and they tried to follow him, 
but all to no purpose. He was not long before he came 
to the older brother’s house; and glad enough he was to 
see it, for the sight and the noise of all those things that 
were after him nearly frightened him to death. 

400 


“Welcome, my boy; I am proud to see you. Dismount 
and put the horse into the stable, and come in and have 
some refreshments; I know you are hungry after all you 
have gone through in that castle. And tell me all you did, 
and all you saw there. Other kings’ sons went by here to 
go there, but they never came back alive, and you are the 
only one that ever broke the spell. And now you must 
come with me, with a sword in your hand, and must cut 
my head off, and must throw it into that well.” 

The young prince dismounts, and puts his horse in the 
stable, and they go in to have some refreshments, for I 
can assure you that he wanted some; and after telling 
everything that passed, which the old gentleman was very 
pleased to hear, they both went for a walk together, the 
young prince looking around and seeing the place looking 
dreadful, as did the old man. He could scarcely walk 
from his toe-nails curling up like ram’s horns that had 
not been cut for many hundred years, and big long hair. 
They came to a well, and the old man gives the prince a 
sword, and tells him to cut his head off, and throw it in 
that well. The young man has to do it against his wish, 
but has to do it. 

Ho sooner has he flung the head into the well, than up 
springs one of the finest young gentlemen you would wish 
to see; and instead of the old house and the fright- 
ful-looking place, it was changed into a beautiful 
hall and grounds. And they went back and enjoyed 
themselves well, and had a good laugh about the 
castle. 

The young ^prince leaves this young gentleman in all 
his glory, and he tells the young prince before leaving that 
he will see him again before long. They have a jolly 
shake-hands, and off he goes to the next oldest brother; 
and, to make my long story short, he has to serve the other 
two brothers the same as the first. 

401 


Now the youngest brother began to ask him how things 
went on. “ Did you see my two brothers ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ How did they look ? ” 

“ Oh ! they looked very well. I liked them much. 
They told me many things to do.” 

“Well, did you go to the castle?” 

“ Yes, my uncle.” 

“And will you tell me what you saw in there? Did 
you see the young lady ? ” 

“ Yes, I saw her, and plenty of other frightful things.” 

“Did you hear any snake biting you in my oldest 
brother’s bed?” 

“No, there were none there; I slept well.” 

“You won’t have to sleep in the same bed to-night. 
You will have to cut my head off in the morning.” 

The young prince had a good night’s rest, and changed 
all the appearance of the place by cutting his friend’s 
head off before he started in the morning. A jolly shake- 
hands, and the uncle tells him it’s very probable he shall 
see him again soon when he is not aware of it. This 
one’s mansion was very pretty, and the country around it 
beautiful, after his head was cut off. Off Jack goes, over 
hills, dales, valleys, and mountains, and very near losing 
his apples again. 

At last he arrives at the cross-roads, where he has to 
meet his brothers on the very day appointed. Coming up 
to the place, he sees no tracks of horses, and, being very 
tired, he lays himself down to sleep, by tying the horse to 
his leg, and putting the apples under his head. 

Presently up came the other brothers the same time 
to the minute, and found him fast asleep ; and they would 
not waken him, but said one to the other, “Let us see 
what sort of apples he has under his head.” So they took 
and tasted them, and found they were different to theirs, 
402 


They took and changed his apples for theirs, and off to 
London as fast as they could, and left the poor fellow 
sleeping. 

After awhile he awoke, and, seeing the tracks of other 
horses, he mounted and off with him, not thinking any- 
thing about the apples being changed. He had still a 
long way to go, and by the time he got near London he 
could hear all the bells in the town ringing, but he did 
not know what was the matter till he rode up to the pal- 
ace, when he came to know that his father was recovered 
by his brothers 5 apples. When he got there his brothers 
were off to some sports for awhile; and the king was very 
glad to see his youngest son, and very anxious to taste his 
apples. But when he found out that they were not good, 
and thought that they were more for poisoning him, he 
sent immediately for the headsman to behead his young- 
est son, who was taken away there and then in a carriage. 
But instead of the headsman taking his head off, he took 
him to a forest not far from the town, because he had pity 
on him, and there left him to take his chance, when 
presently up comes a big hairy bear, limping on three 
legs. The prince, poor fellow, climbed up a tree, fright- 
ened of him, but the bear told him to come down, that it 
was no use of him to stop there. With hard persuasion 
poor Jack comes down, and the bear speaks to him and 
bids him “ Come here to me ; I will not do you any harm. 
It’s better for you to come with me and have some re- 
freshments ; I know that you are hungry all this time.” 

The poor young prince says, “No, I am not hungry; 
but I was very frightened when I saw you coming to me 
first, as I had no place to run away from you.” 

The bear said, “I was also afraid of you when I saw 
that gentleman setting you down from the carriage. I 
thought you would have guns with you, and that you 
would not mind killing me if you saw me; but when I 
403 


saw the gentleman going away with the carriage, and 
leaving you behind by yourself, I made bold to come to 
you, and now I know who you are very well. Are you not 
the king’s youngest son? I have seen you and your 
brothers and lots of other gentlemen in this wood many 
times. Now before we go from here, I must tell you that 
I am in disguise; and I shall take you to where we are 
stopping.” 

The young prince tells him everything from first to last, 
how he started in search of the apples, and about the three 
old men, and about the castle, and how he was served at 
last by his father after he came home; and instead of the 
headsman taking his head off, he was kind enough to leave 
him with his life, “ and here I am now, under your pro- 
tection.” 

The bear tells him, e< Come on, my brother ; there shall 
no harm come to you as long as you are with me.” 

So he takes him up to the tents; and when they see 
them coming, the girls begin to laugh, and say, “ Here is 
our Jubal coming with a young gentleman.” When he 
advanced nearer the tents, they all knew he was the young 
prince that had passed by that way many times before ; and 
when Jubal went to change himself, he called most of 
them together into one tent, and told them all about him, 
and to be kind to him. And so they were, for there was 
nothing that he desired but what he had, the same as if 
he were in the palace with his father and mother. Jubal, 
after he pulled off his hairy coat, was one of the finest 
young men amongst them, and he was the young prince’s 
closest companion. The young prince was always very 
sociable and merry, only when he thought of the gold 
watch he had from the young princess in the castle, and 
which he had lost he knew not where. 

He passed many happy days in the forest; but one day 
lie and poor Jubal were strolling through the trees, when 
404 


they came to the very spot where they first met, and acci- 
dentally looking up, he could see his watch hanging in the 
tree which he had to climb when he first saw poor Jubal 
coming to him in the form of a bear; and he cries out, 
“ Jubal, Jubal, I can see my watch up in that tree.” 

"Well, I am sure, how lucky!” exclaimed poor Jubal; 
“ shall I go and get it down ? ” 

"No, I’d rather go myself,” said the young prince. 

Now whilst all this was going on the young princess in 
that castle, seeing that one of the king of England’s sons 
had been there by the changing of the watch and other 
things, got herself ready with a large army, and sailed off 
for England. She left her army a little way out of the 
town, and she went with her guards straight up to the 
palace to see the king, and also demanded to see his sons. 
They had a long conversation together about different 
things. At last she demanded one of the sons to come 
before her; and the oldest one comes, when she asks him, 
" Have you ever been at the Castle of Melvales ? ” and he 
answers, "Yes.” So she throws down a pocket handker- 
chief and bids him to walk over it without stumbling. 
He goes to walk over it, and no sooner did he put his foot 
on it, than he fell down and broke his leg. He was taken 
off immediately and made a prisoner of by her own guards. 
The other was called upon, and was asked the same ques- 
tions, and had to go through the same performance, and 
he also was made a prisoner of. Now she says, “ Have 
you not another son?” when the king began so to shiver 
and shake and knock his two knees together that he could 
scarcely stand upon his legs, and did not know what to 
say to her, he was so much frightened. At last a thought 
came to him to send for his headsman, and inquire of 
him particularly. "Did he behead his son, or was he 
alive?” 

" He is saved, 0 king.” 


405 


“ Then bring him here immediately, or else I shall be 
done for.” 

Two of the fastest horses they had were put in the 
carriage, to go and look for the poor prince; and when 
they got to the very spot where they left him, it was the 
time when the Prince was up in the tree, getting his 
watch down, and poor Jubal standing a distance off. 
They cried out to him, Had he seen another young man 
in this wood? Jubal, seeing such a nice carriage, thought 
something, and did not like to say no, and said yes, and 
pointed up the tree; and they told him to come down im- 
mediately, as there was a young lady in search of him. 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! J ubal, did you ever hear such a thing 
in all your life, my brother ? 99 

“Do you call him your brother?” 

"Well, he has been better to me than my brothers.” 

“Well, for his kindness he shall accompany you to the 
palace, and see how things turn out.” 

After they go to the palace, the prince has a good wash, 
and appears before the princess, -when she asks him if he 
had ever been at the Castle of Melvales? With a smile 
on his face, he gives a graceful bow. And says my lady, 
“Walk over that handkerchief without stumbling.” He 
walks over it many times, and dances upon it, and 
nothing happened to him. She said, with a proud and 
smiling air, “ That is the young man ; ” and out come the 
objects exchanged by both of them. Presently she orders 
a very large box to be brought in and to be opened, and 
out come some of the most costly uniforms that were ever 
worn on an emperor’s back; and when he dressed himself 
up, the king could scarcely look upon him from the 
dazzling of the gold and diamonds on his coat. He orders 
his two brothers to be in confinement 'for a period of time ; 
and before the princess asks him to go with her to her own 
406 


country, she pays a visit to the bear’s camp, and she makes 
some very handsome presents for their kindness to the 
young prince. And she gives Jubal an invitation to go with 
them, which he accepts; wishes them a hearty farewell for 
awhile, promising to see them all again in some little time. 

They go back to the king, and bid farewell, and tell him 
not to be so hasty another time to order people to be be- 
headed before having a proper cause for it. Off they go 
with all their army; but while the soldiers were striking 
their tents, the prince bethought himself of his Welsh 
harp, and had it sent for immediately to take with him 
in a beautiful wooden case. They called to see each of 
those three brothers whom the prince had to stay with 
when he was on his way to the Castle of Melvales; and I 
can assure you, when they all got together, they had a 
very merry time of it. And there we will leave them. 


THE STARS IN THE SKY 

Once upon a time and twice on a time, and all times to- 
gether that I ever heard tell of, there was a tiny lassie 
who would weep all day to have the stars in the sky to 
play with; she wouldn’t have this, and she wouldn’t have 
that, but it was always the stars she would have. So one 
fine day off she went to find them. And she walked, and 
walked, and walked, till by-and-by she came to a mill-dam. 

“ Goode’en to ye, Brooklet, Brooklet,” says she ; “ I’m 
seeking the stars in the sky to play with. Have you seen 
any?” 

“ Oh, yes, my bonnie lassie,” said the mill-dam. 
“ They shine in my dwn face o’ nights till I can’t sleep 
for them. Jump in and perhaps you’ll find one.” 

407 


So she jumped in, and swam about and swam about and 
swam about, but ne’er a one could she see. So she went on 
till she came to a brooklet. 

“Goode’en to ye, Brooklet, Brooklet,” says she; “I’m 
seeking the stars in the sky to play with. Have you seen 
any?” 

“Yes, indeed, my bonny lassie,” said the Brooklet. 
“ They glint on my banks at night. Paddle about, and 
maybe you’ll find one.” 

So she paddled, and she paddled, and she paddled, but 
ne’er a one did she find. So she went on till she came to 
the Good Folk. 

“ Goode’en to ye, Good Folk,” says she ; “ I’m looking 
for the stars in the sky to play with. Have vou seen e’er 
a one?” 

“Why, yes, my bonny lassie,” said the Good Folk. 
“ They shine on the grass here o’ night. Dance with us, 
and maybe you’ll find one.” 

And she danced, and she danced, and she danced, but 
ne’er a one did she see. So she sat down; I suppose she 
wept. 

“ Oh dearie me, oh dearie me,” says she, “ I’ve swam, 
and I’ve paddled, and I’ve danced, and if ye’ll not help 
me I shall never find the stars in the sky to play with.” 

But the Good Folk whispered together, and one of them 
came up to her, and took her by the hand and said, “ If 
you won’t go home to your mother, go forward, go for- 
ward; mind you take the right road. Ask Four Feet to 
carry you to No Feet at all, and tell No Feet at all to 
carry you to the stairs without steps, and if you can climb 
that — ■” 

“Oh, shall I be among the stars in the sky then?” 
cried the lassie. 

“If you’ll not be, then you’ll be elsewhere,” said the 
Good Folk, and set to dancing again, 

408 


So on she went again with a light heart, and by-and-by 
she came to a saddled horse, tied to a tree. 

“ Goode’en to ye, Beast,” said she ; “ I’m seeking the 
stars in the sky to play with. Will you give me a lift, 
for all my bones are an-aching.” 

“Nay,” said the horse, “I know naught of the stars in 
the sky, and Fm here to do the bidding of the Good Folk, 
and not my own will.” 

“Well,” says she, “it’s from the Good Folk I come, and 
they bade me tell Four Feet to carry me to No Feet at all.” 

“ That’s another story,” said he ; “ jump up and ride 
with me.” 

So they rode, and they rode, and they rode, till they 
got out of the forest and found themselves at the edge of 
the sea. And on the water in front of them was a wide 
glistening path running straight out towards a beautiful 
thing that rose out of the water and went up into the sky, 
and was all the colours in the world, blue and red and 
green, and wonderful to look at. 

“Now get you down,” said the horse; “Fve brought ye 
to the end of the land, and that’s as much as Four Feet 
can do. I must away home to my own folk.” 

“But,” said the lassie, “where’s No Feet at all, and 
where’s the stair without steps?” 

“ I know not,” said the horse, “ it’s none of my business 
either. So goode’en to ye, my bonny lassie;” and off he 
went. 

So the lassie stood still and looked at the water, till a 
strange kind of fish came swimming up to her feet. 

“ Goode’en to ye, big Fish,” says she, “ I’m looking for 
the stars in the sky, and for the stairs that climb up to 
them. Will ye show me the way?” 

“Nay,” said the Fish, “I can’t unless you bring me 
word from the Good Folk.” 

“ Yes, indeed,” said she. “ They said Four Feet would 
409 . 


bring me to No Feet at all, and No Feet at all would carry 
me to the stairs without steps.” 

“ Ah, well,” said the Fish ; “ that’s all right then. Get 
on my back and hold fast.” 

And off he went — Kerplash ! — into the water, along 
the silver path, towards the bright arch. And the nearer 
they came the brighter the sheen of it, till she had to 
shade her eyes from the light of it. 

And as they came to the foot of it, she saw it was a 
broad bright road, sloping up and away into the sky, and 
at the far, far end of it she could see wee shining things 
dancing about. 

“ Now,” said the Fish, “ here you are, and yon’s the 
stair; climb up if you can, but hold on fast. I’ll warrant 
you find the stair easier at home than by such a way; 
’twas ne’er meant for lassies’ feet to travel;” and off he 
splashed through the water. 

So she clomb, and she clomb, and she clomb, but ne’er 
a step higher did she get: the light was before her and 
around her, and the water behind her, and the more she 
struggled the more she was forced down into the dark and 
the cold, and the more she clomb the deeper she fell. 

But she clomb and she clomb, till she got dizzy in the 
light and shivered with the cold, and dazed with fear; 
but still she clomb; till at last, quite dazed and silly-like, 
she let clean go, and sank down — down — down. 

And bang she came on to the hard boards, and found her- 
self sitting, weeping and wailing, by the bedside at home 
all alone. 


410 


HABETROT AND SCANTLIE MAB 


A woman had one fair daughter, who loved play better 
than work, wandering in the meadows and lanes better 
than the spinning-wheel and distaff. The mother was 
heartily vexed at this, for in those days no lassie had any 
chance of a good husband unless she was an industrious 
spinster. So she coaxed, threatened, even beat her daugh- 
ter, but all to no purpose; the girl remained what her 
mother called her, “ an idle cuttie.” 

At last, one spring morning, the gudewife gave her 
seven heads of lint, saying she would take no excuse; they 
must be returned in three days spun into yarn. The girl 
saw her mother was in earnest, so she plied her distaff as 
well as she could; but her hands were all untaught, and 
by evening of the second day only a very small part of her 
task was done. She cried herself to sleep that night, and 
in the morning, throwing aside her work in despair, she 
strolled out into the fields, all sparkling with dew. At 
last she reached a knoll, at whose feet ran a little burn, 
shaded with woodbine and wild roses; and there she sat 
down, burying her face in her hands. When she looked 
up, she was surprised to see by the margin of the stream 
an old woman, quite unknown to her, drawing out the 
thread as she basked in the sun. There was nothing re- 
markable in her appearance, except the length and thick- 
ness of her lips, only she was seated on a self-bored stone. 
The girl rose, went to the good dame, and gave her a 
friendly greeting, but she could not help inquiring 
“What makes you so long lipped?” 

“ Spinning thread, my hinnie,” said the old woman, 
pleased with her. “ I wet my fingers with my lips, as I 
draw the thread from the distaff.” 

411 


“Ah!” said the girl, “I should be spinning too, but 
it’s all to no purpose. I shall ne’er do my task:” on 
which the old woman proposed to do it for her. Over- 
joyed, the maiden ran to fetch her lint, and placed it in 
her new friend’s hand, asking where she should call for 
the yarn in the evening; but she received no reply; the 
old woman passed away from her among the trees and 
bushes. The girl, much bewildered, wandered about a 
little, sat down to rest, and finally fell asleep by the little 
knoll. 

When she awoke she was surprised to find it was even- 
ing. Causleen, the evening star, was beaming with 
silvery light, soon to be lost in the moon’s splendour. 
While watching these changes, the maiden w r as startled by 
the sound of an uncouth voice, which seemed to issue from 
below the self-bored stone and heard the words : “ Hurry 

up, Scantlie Mab, for I’ve promised the yarn and Habe- 
trot always keeps her word.” Then looking down the 
hole saw her friend, the old dame, walking backwards and 
forwards in a deep cavern among a group of spinsters all 
seated on colludie stones, and busy with distaff and 
spindle. An ugly company they were, with lips more or 
less disfigured, like old Habetrot’s. Another of the sis- 
terhood, who sat in a distant corner reeling the yarn, was 
marked, in addition, by grey eyes, which seemed starting 
from her head, and a long hooked nose. 

While the girl was still watching, she heard Habetrot 
address this dame by the name of Scantlie Mab, and say, 
“Bundle up the yarn, it is time the young lassie should 
give it to her mother.” Delighted to hear this, the girl 
got up and returned homewards. Habetrot soon overtook 
her, and placed the yarn in her hands. “ Oh, what can 
I do for you in return?” exclaimed she, in delight. 
“Nothing — nothing,” replied the dame; “but dinna tell 
your mother who spun the yarn.” 

412 


Scarcely believing her eyes, the girl went borne, where 
she found her mother had been busy making sausters, and 
hanging them in the chimney to dry, and then, tired out, 
had retired to rest. Finding herself very hungry after 
her long day on the knoll, the girl took down pudding 
after pudding, fried and ate them, and at last went to bed 
too. The mother was up first the next morning, and 
when she came into the kitchen and found her sausters 
all gone, and the seven hanks of yarn lying beautifully 
smooth and bright upon the table, she ran out of the house 
wildly, crying out — 

“ My daughter’s spun seven, seven, seven, 

My daughter’s eaten seven, seven, seven, 

And all before daylight.” 

A laird who chanced to be riding by, heard the ex- 
clamation, but could not understand it ; so he rode up and 
asked the gudewife what was the matter, on which she 
broke out again — 

“ My daughter’s spun seven, seven, seven. 

My daughter’s eaten seven, seven, seven. 

before daylight; and if ye dinna believe me, why come in 
and see it ” The laird, he alighted and went into the 
cottage, where he saw the yarn and admired it so much 
he begged to see the spinner. 

The mother dragged in her girl. He vowed he was 
lonely without a wife, and had long been in search of one 
who was a good spinner. So their troth was plighted, 
and the wedding took place soon afterwards, though the 
bride was in great fear that she should not prove so clever 
at her spinning-wheel as he expected. But old Dame 
Habetrot came to her aid. “ Bring your bonny bride- 
groom to my cell,” said she to the young bride soon after 
413 


her marriage; “he shall see what comes o ? spinning, and 
never will he tie you to the spinning-wheel.” 

Accordingly the bride led her husband the next day to 
the flowery knoll, and bade him look through the self- 
bored stone. Great was his surprise to see Habetrot danc- 
ing and jumping over her rock, singing all the time this 
ditty to her sisterhood, while they kept time with their 
spindles : — 

“ We who live in dreary den. 

Are both rank and foul to see; 

Hidden from the glorious sun, 

That teems the fair earth’s canopie: 

Ever must our evenings lone 
Be spent on the colludie stone. 

“ Cheerless is the evening grey 

When * Causleen hath died away, 

But ever bright and ever fair 

Are they who breath this evening air, 

And lean upon the self -bored stone 
Unseen by all but me alone.” 

The song ended, Scantlie Mab asked Habetrot what she 
meant by the last line, “ Unseen by all but me alone.” 

“ There is one,” replied Habetrot, “ whom I bid to come 
here at this hour, and he has heard my song through the 
self-bored stone.” So saying she rose, opened another 
door, which was concealed by the roots of an old tree, 
and invited the pair to come in and see her family. 

The laird was astonished at the weird-looking com- 
pany, as he well might be, and inquired of one after 
another the cause of their strange lips. In a different 
tone of voice, and with a different twist of the mouth, 
each answered that it was caused by spinning. At least 
they tried to say so, but one grunted out “Nakasind,” 

* The evening star. 


414 


and another “ Owkassand,” while a third murmured 
“ O-a-a-send.” All, however, made the bridegroom under- 
stand what was the cause of their ugliness; while Habe- 
trot slyly hinted that if his wife were allowed to spin, 
her pretty lips would grow out of shape too, and her 
pretty face get an ugsome look. So before he left the 
cave he vowed that his little wife should never touch a 
spinning-wheel, and he kept his word. She used to wan- 
der in the meadows by his side, or ride behind him over 
the hills, but all the flax grown on his land was sent to 
old Habetrot to be converted into yarn. 


THE END 


415 



Source of the Tales 


Author. 



Title. 

Page. 

Adapted . 



Alfred the Great 

1 

Adapted . 



Another Recruit 

44 

Adapted . 



Robin Hood and the Sheriff’s 
Prize 

49 

Adapted . 



Ro'bin Hood Meets Little John 

40 

Adapted . 



William Tell and His Great 
Shot 

7 

Adapted . 



William Tell’s Second Shot . 

15 

Albania 



The Hunter and the Serpent . 

123 

Arabia 



Aicha’s Stratagem . 

249 

Arabia 



A Slice of Tongue . 

252 

Austria 



Better Than That . 

261 

Bohemia . 



The Farmer and the Noses . 

196 

Celtic 



The Blue Mountains 

312 

China 



Hok Lee and the Dwarfs 

390 

Darton, F. J. H., Ed. by 

Sir Cleges and the Cherries . 

84 

D’Aulnoy, Madame 


The Wonderful Sheep . 

348 

Denmark . 



Glob and Alger .... 

124 

Denmark . 



The Ness King .... 

151 

Deulin, Charles 



The Nettle Spinner . 

33 

Dickens, Charles 



A Child’s Dream of a Star . 

202 

Dickens, Charles 



Prince Bull .... 

206 

Dickens, Charles 



The Magic Fishbone 

228 

England . 



A Pottle O’ Brains . 

366 

England . 



Habetrot and Scantlie Mab. . 

411 

England . 



King John and the Abbot of 
Canterbury 

384 

England . 



The King of England and His 
Three Sons .... 

385 

England . 



The King O’ the Cats 

382 

England . 



The Tale of a Youth Who Set 
Out to Learn What Fear 
Was 

872 

England . 



Tom Hicka thrift 

335 

Ewing, Mrs. J. H. 



“I Won’t” 

106 

Ewing, Mrs. J. H. 



The Fiddler and the Fairy 
Ring 

112 

Ewing, Mrs. J. H. 



The Magic Jar .... 

58 

France 



Fairy Gifts .... 

291 


Author. 

Title. 

Page , 

France .... 

Prince Vivien and the 


Princess Placida 

266 

Germany .... 

Blockhead Hans 

323 

Germany .... 

The Mouse Tower . 

263 

Germany .... 

The Two Gifts . 

213 

Halliwell, J. 0., 

Nursery Rhymes, 

Adapted from 

Catskin .... 

19 

Hartland, E. S. 

A Son of Adam 

341 

Iceland .... 

Her mod and Hadvor 

328 

India .... 

The Wise Old Shepherd . 

118 

Isle of Wight 

The Pied Piper . 

308 

Italy 

Lionbruno .... 

91 

Italy 

The Crumb in the Beard 

53 

Italy 

The Thankful Dead . 

102 

Japan .... 

The Story of Urashima, 


the Fisher Boy . 

63 

Japan .... 

The Tongue-Cut Sparrow 

144 

Lincolnshire Legend 

The Buried Moon . 

343 

Longfellow, Adapted from 

King Robert of Sicily . 

74 

Macleod, Mary, Ed. by . 

King Henry and the Miller 

77 

Madagascar 

The Frog and the Wild Hog 

122 

Marelles, Charles . 

Drakestail .... 

240 

Morris, William, 

Retold from 
“The Earthly 

Paradise’* of . 

The Apples of Venus 

172 

Norway .... 

The Beautiful Palace East of 

the Sun. and North of 


the Earth . 

160 

Roman Catholic Legend 

Saint Christopher . 

181 

Russia .... 

King Kojata 

216 

Scotland .... 

Johnny Gloke . 

246 

Scotland .... 

Tamlane .... 

387 

Scotland .... 

The Stars 'in the Sky 

407 

Servia .... 

The Shepherd and the Dragon 187 

Sicily .... 

The Ass that Lays Money 

71 

Sweden .... 

Brother Bernard 

258 

Sweden .... 

The Werwolf . 

132 

Traditions populaire 

de 1’ Asie Mineure 

The Bronze Ring 

296 

Volsunga Saga 

Sigurd 

23 

Wales .... 

The Bar of Gold 

192 














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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



